


Adventures in Denim Vests

by pinkbubblesgo (lavatorylovemachine)



Series: Jukebox Stories [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: 1980s, Artists, Contemporary Romance, Dialogue Heavy, Drug Addiction, F/M, HIV/AIDS, Heavy Metal, Implied Sexual Content, Journalists, Minor Disabled Character, Minor Queer Character, Music, Musical References, Musicians, Not Beta Read, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pop music, Recreational Drug Use, Slice of Life, Thrash metal, Work In Progress, english not first language, metal, mtv
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2018-10-29 14:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavatorylovemachine/pseuds/pinkbubblesgo
Summary: It is 1984. After a bad break-up, photographer Christine Jensen moves to LA in search for new experiences. At one of her photo shoots she meets a thrash metal singer that will rock her world.





	1. Part 1: Welcome to the Gutter

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** As a fictional work, all events and characters (except for real-life references) are imaginary. This story does not intend to harm any particular person.
> 
>  **Author's notes:** I originally set this up for Wattpad, so it's divided in parts, not chapters. Link's [here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/132055773-adventures-in-denim-vests).
> 
>  **Dedication:** To my metal brothers and sisters around the world \m/.

### Part 1: Welcome to the Gutter

#### 1984 – Los Angeles, CA.

Christine walked through the mound of trash, stepping on plastic bottles, boxes, rotten fruit and other things she tried to block the smell out of. She had finally reached a clear area when a fly buzzed around her and tea-colored hair, making her shake her head and wrinkle her nose.

"Ew," she said, took a few steps further and checked the sole of her jazz shoes. “You owe me a raise for this, Steve.”

The man in front of her, leaning on a black pick-up truck, let out a short chuckle. He was older than Christine, already in his thirties, but his skinny build, tight denim clothes and long black hair made him look younger.

"C'mon, it's the perfect location," Steve said. "It's..." He took a puff off his cigarette and breathed it out. "Topical, as they say".

A gust of wind freshened the smell. She pushed her hair away from her face and said, "This is so far from the city. Do you think they'll come?"

"Yeah. They're probably getting out of bed by now." His laugh got lost between the smoke.

It was a warm, cozy afternoon, with the sun so bright Christine was glad she had brought her dark sunglasses and comfortable clothes; or at least what she thought of as comfy: parachute pants and a white top. 

She turned around to see if the guys were any closer, but it was hard to see through the piles of garbage.

“You know,” Steve said, “you should really drop the Madonna headband by now.”

Christine touched it. “Why? It’s cute…”

“Ah, here they are!” he suddenly said. He was looking at an upcoming car, behind a warning sign that said "TOXIC. DO NOT ENTER."

It was without a doubt the oldest and dirtiest car Christine had ever laid eyes upon; a sixties Alfa Romeo, grey, with scratches all over it and the windows full of dust. “LOBOTOMY”, the right side read in black spray. The car pulled over and she could see more clearly: behind the wheel was a paunchy man in his forties, while the other seats had four significantly younger men on them, all with long hair.

The driver, in a clean white shirt and black pants, opened the front door and came out.

“Are you Steve?” he asked.

“Yeah," Steve said.

“Great. I’m the producer, Jeff Donahue.”

They shook hands.

“This is Christine,” Steve introduced, “our photographer for today.”

“Hello,” Christine shook Jeff’s hand with a smile.

Just then two band mates finally emerged, panting. Their leather jackets, band t-shirts and ripped jeans caught Christine’s attention, even though she had seen an outfit like that before in another band. She remembered the first time she worked with a heavy metal band and how scared, curious and excited she was. Her roommate Alice had told her she had arrived in L.A. just in time for the San Francisco underground scene, which was different from the LA scene itself. Everyday Christine learned something new about scenes, genres, subgenres, bands. An endless catalog that had its main roots in heavy rock.

She took off her sunglasses and hung them on her top.

“This junk goes straight into the deposit,” one of the guys said in a strong New York accent. He was very tall, black-haired and had bored eyes. “After we're done here.”

“Hey, don’t mess with my old man’s car,” the other guy, shorter than his bandmate and everyone else, retorted in the same accent. “This baby’s got _history_ …” By his features, Christine guessed he was of Italian ancestry.

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t need to hear about how you lost your virginity again.”

The tall guy got the short one in a wrestling hold and dragged him around, all while both of them cackled. While this was going on, a third young man came out of the car: a blonde one with a trimmed mustache and a hunched walk, who threw his cigarette on the ground while he approached the rest of the group. A fourth figure walked behind him, his brownish, honey-like eyes looking around as if he had been dropped in an amusement park. As he got closer, Christine noticed small stains of nicotine on his teeth but still found them perfect, just like his wavy brown hair. Their eyes met for a moment, until Jeff said:

“Ok, looks like we’re ready.” He rubbed his hands. “Guys, this is Steve, head editor of the magazine, and this is your photographer for today, Christine.”

“Hello,” Steve said.

“Hi,” she waved at the band members. The honey-like eyes caught her gaze again, making her blush slightly and smile back.

Jeffrey cleared his throat. “Christine, this is Lobotomy,” he said. “This is Mike, on the guitar,” he gestured towards the tallest guy, “Richie on bass…,” the shortest guy smiled, “Dan, vocalist,” Christine could tell he was as nervous as her, “and drummer Leo.”

They all waved and said hi to Christine, except for Leo, who was sliding his baby finger inside his ear. When he took it out it was full of wax, which he brought to his nose and smelled.

“Leonard, please,” Jeff said. “Not while we’re doing photoshoots.”

Leo said nothing, seeming fascinated with his own ear wax.

“You have to excuse them,” Jeffrey told Christine, “they’re not used to seeing girls often.”

“That’s funny,” Mike said, “’cause I saw your mother last night.”

“Hilarious”, Jeff said. Christine didn't knowing if it was okay to laugh or not. “Oookay," the producer rubbed his hands, "shall we get to work?”

“Of course,” Steve said. “Let’s wait in the car. Care for a pack of cigs, Jeff?”

“Sure thing.”

Christine then left the guys and went for her bag. She took out her 35 millimeters camera, hung it on her neck and unfolded the two reflectors, putting them on each side of the pile.

“Okay, guys,” she told the band while adjusting her camera, “in front of the garbage pile, please.”

They all walked towards the pile of garbage in front of Christine as she watched them through the lenses. Mike now stood at the center of the frame, between Richie and Leo. Dan was at the left corner.

“Richie,” Christine said, “could you switch places with Dan?”

They did as they were told and Christine made an ‘okay’ gesture, her eye still on the lenses. “Great. Now I just need you to get closer together.”

She watched them obey her through the lenses. “I’m gonna start now," she said. "Just look at the camera.”

The camera began clicking while the guys stood there, looking serious. This didn’t last long, however, for in seconds Richie started giggling and the others followed. First timers, Christine thought and darted her eyes from her camera. It went on for a while until Dan gave Richie a playful punch in the stomach, which made him stop laughing. Soon everyone else got serious as well.

“Dan, could you fold your arms?” Christine asked. Her voice had shook a little and she was trying to pretend it didn’t happen. “Exactly, perfect.”

The photoshoot went by without any other setback, except once in a while Christine caught Dan staring at her, not at the camera. She also sensed that if he could have smile at the moment, he would have. The photos were coming out nicely, almost, she thought, as if they were intended to be centerfolds, and considering her attention was, most of time, on Dan and his hair, his bright eyes…

“Okay…” she said. “Now, Leo and Richie, can you kneel down and the others stay at the back?”

They moved around like she had told them to.

Christine clicked on the shutter but nothing happened. She tried again and failed.

“Something wrong?” Richie asked.

“It’s stuck...” Christine answered. “Sorry, guys, I’m gonna have to work on this for a while.”

“Let’s go sit in the car…” Leo said, and Richie and Mike followed. Dan stayed where he was.

Christine twisted the shutter left and right, wishing it to work again. She was trying to see if something broke when she felt someone’s presence in front of her: a breath of beer and smell of leather that kindled in all her right places.

“Can I help you?” Dan asked. The sunlight made his gentle eyes, now fixated on Christine, a bit brighter.

“... Uh-it’s fine, I think I got it,” her voice trembled again and she smiled slightly, trying to cover up her nervousness. She wanted to keep staring at him but looked down on her camera. “But thanks anyway.”

Silence fell between them. Christine kept working of her camera while Dan tried to breathe normally.

“Is this the first photo shoot for you guys?” She finally asked.

“Yep.” Dan put his hands on his jacket pockets and sighed. “I was a bit nervous back there,” he smiled. “Could you tell?”

“Not at all,” Christine said, and forced the shutter to turn left. “You looked great.”

They didn’t say anything for another while, but Christine could feel Dan’s eyes on her. Suddenly, music started blasting from the band’s car. It was a song Christine had never heard, fast and aggressive.

“Does the magazine get a lot of New York bands?” Dan asked.

“Well, we got Parasite last week.”

Dan’s eyebrows arched. “They’re here?”

“They’re in San Francisco now, actually. Came here only for the photos.”

“Ah, no wonder we didn’t see them at any club.”

“They’re friends of yours?”

“Yeah. We started around the same time in New York.”

Christine blew down onto the camera and smiled. “It was just dirt,” she said. “It’s working now.”

“DANNY!”

It was Richie’s voice, calling out from behind them. He came over and put a hand on Dan’s shoulder.

“Is he bothering you?” he said to Christine. “Sorry, he can’t help himself.” He squeezed Dan’s cheeks together. “Handsome son of a bitch.”

Dan laughed after Richie had let him go. She eyed Christine again, smiling.

“I like your headband,” he said, making her blush.

“Really? Thank—“

“Let’s go, Danny,” Richie said.

“ _Alright._ ”

They both walked to where the other guys were, sharing beers on the floor, away from the trash pile.

“Okay, guys,” Christine called, “time for the last takes!”

After nearly half an hour, she had lots of good shots and hoped one of them would hit the front cover of the magazine. Just when she was saying goodbye to the band and their producer, Dan came out of nowhere with a vinyl disc in one hand.

“This is our album,” he said, “give it a shot.”

He handed it to her and she looked down at it. It was titled _Lobotomized_ and the cover featured a drawing of a lobotomy performed on a very much awake and terrified man.

“I will,” she said and smiled.

Dan put his hands on his pockets and started rocking back and forth.

“We’re playing tonight in Berkeley. Come see us if you want.”

“Oh… Where, exactly?”

“I wrote the address inside the sleeve.”

“Okay, great. I… I’ll think about it,” she smiled.

“Great…” he smiled back. “If you do come, be there early. Like, at ten. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“I have to go now. The guys are waiting for me. Bye, Christine.”

 “Bye, Danny.”

 

 

Christine walked all the way over from the _Loud & Proud _headquarters to the apartment she shared with Alice, located in Westlake. They often neighbored new bands trying to make it in the scene, specially on the weekends, where Christine and Alice had to yell at each other to be heard. That night, thankfully, was fairly quiet, with not even drunk teenagers around. Christine opened the door of the building and stepped inside. She looked through the mail over the nearby table and found a large, yellow envelope.

_Summer I. Logan_

_San Diego, CA._

Christine grabbed the envelope and rushed upstairs. When she got to the door, three stories above, and opened it, she wasn’t surprised to see a messy apartment yet again. A dozen of magazines laid on the couch, some post-it notes had fallen off the refrigerator, there was food over the dinner table and chocolate wraps were scattered around the floor. The only things that were clean and neat were the vinyl records next to the outside window.

She cleared the couch from the magazines and sat down. She opened the envelope and took out the letter.

_Hi, Christine!_

_How are things in LA? How’s the rock magazine treating you? Everything's fine over here, you know, same old same old. I just finished an article that practically kept me up all night, so thank God  I finally have the time to write to you!_

_Everyone misses you here, sweetie. We wish you wouldn't have left. BUT I totally understand and you have my support._

_Rob showed up here last week, asking stuff. I told him I didn’t know where you were and to leave me the fuck alone (I think that was the first time I ever swore, but he made me). He stopped dropping by, eventually, so don’t worry. Also, your parents called me. I guess Rob said something to them ‘cause they sounded worried, so I told them you had moved to LA and gave them your new phone number. I know, it's not a pretty situation, but the important thing is that you're finally happy, right?_

_But enough about the bad stuff. The interview went great! I was really really nervous, but they were all very sweet and made me feel comfortable. Oh, it was like a dream! Of course I already got the tickets, so you can finally scream it out, hahaha. Two weeks, can't wait! We'll meet at my parents’ and drive from there, okay?_

_So, anyway. I really hope everything's working out for you. Let me know, girl!_

_Love,_

_Summer._

_P.S.: I’m sending you the May copy and a photo JT signed for me. Can you believe it?_

Christine reached for the envelope on her lap and took out a magazine with “Teen Daze” on the title. The cover featured five young men in mullets and make-up. At the left side, various titles read:

 _Duran Duran takes over America_ _–_ _KISSABLE CENTERFOLD!_

_Who's_ _your TV soulmate?_

_Matt Dillon and his perfect girl_

With a smile plastered all over her face, she opened the magazine on the first page. The summary promised Summer’s interview on page 15, so Christine flipped the pages until she reached it. The photo laid there: John Taylor, grinning in color, with the caption _To Summer, with all the love in the world - JT_. Christine sighed, louder and more romantically than what she had in mind.

She put the picture down at the table and started reading the interview. A few minutes had passed when she heard the door opening. She turned around and saw Alice, dressed all in black as usual, with her punk leather purse hanging from her right hand.

“Hey,” she greeted, and put her purse on the floor.

“Hey, Al,” Christine said, looking up and leaving the magazine on the table. “Long day?”

“Ugh, tell me about it. Phillip couldn’t wrap up the article. Got too excited,” she chuckled. “By the way, how was your shoot with them?”

“Great. They were really nice. I think I’ve got some shots.”

“Yeah? I bet. Oooh, what do you got in there?” Alice was peeking over Christine’s shoulder.

“That’s the magazine I used to work for. My friend sent me a copy.”

“Really? Can I see?”

“Sure”.

Alice took off her jacket, threw it on the floor and sat down next to his roommate. She grabbed the magazine and looked at the cover attentively.

“Hmm…” she mused. “You know, I never bought one of these girly magazines. Much less read one.”

“What? Never?”

Alice shook her head. “When I was in high school I read _Hit Parader_. I told you, it’s all my brother’s influence.” She started flipping through the pages quickly. “So many beautiful people here… WHOA. That John Taylor sure is hot.”

“I know, right? He’s my favorite.”

Alice pointed at someone else in the magazine. “And who’s this one?”

“Nick Rhodes.”

“Not bad… not bad.”

Alice got up and left Christine reading. After a moment of silence, Christine heard her roommate’s voice:

 “How long has this can been here?”

Alice was standing next to the opened door of the refrigerator, holding a beer can in her right hand. She sniffed it and made a grimace.

Christine shrugged and said, “I don’t know.” Then she remembered and chuckled. “ _You_ bought it.”

“Oh. Right.” Alice shrugged as well and took a sip. “Not bad,” she said. She then closed the refrigerator, took a look at the post-its and crumpled some of them, throwing the pieces at the wastebasket nearby and missing.

“Al,” Christine began.

“Relax, I’ll clean up next weekend. Anyway, what’s for today’s homework?”

Christine opened her bag and slid her hand inside.

“ _The Wall_ …” she said in a defeated tone, taking out the record and putting it on the table.

Alice took a big gulp of beer and burped. “I’m gonna talk to Steve about this. Pink Floyd fucking blows.”

“Oh, thank God it’s not just me, then. I wasn’t even going to listen to it.”

“So, another night spinning _Piece of Mind_ …”

“Actually,” Christine said, with the beginning of a grin on her face, “I’ve got something else for today.” She opened her bag, took Lobotomy’s album and showed it to the other girl.

Alice walked towards her roommate and looked at the record attentively, examining it.

“Wow,” Alice said. “How did you get it?”

“The vocalist gave it to me.”

 

“For free?”

“Yeah,” Christine nodded. “He also invited me to see the band’s show tonight.”

Alice lip’s contorted to reveal a sly smile. She finished her beer and said, “You're so lucky... What does he look like?”

“Cute,” Christine started rocking back and forth in the couch, “hair down to here, killer eyes...”

“Damn, really? 'Cause thrash guys are usually... not cute at all?" Alice ended with a laugh.

Christine imitated her roommate’s smile. “Well, he is." She got off the couch. "I’m gonna put the tape on while I reply to this letter. You can go to the show for me if I don’t like it.”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to love it. It’s got some sweet Maiden influences.”

“Really?” Christine looked like a child on Christmas.

“Yeah. Where’s the show at?”

“The address is inside.”

Christine opened up the case and slid out a piece of paper from under the cover. She handed it to Alice.

“This is the Kesha’s,” she said, after reading it. “I know where it is, I’ll drive.”

“Great!”

“I’m gonna go change into something more comfortable. You finish your letter.”

As Alice stared towards her room, Christine stared for the record player. She put the casette inside and hit play.

The first bass lines started, accompanied by galloping drums. Alice opened the notebook next to the records and tore a page off it. She sat, legs crossed, on the couch, grabbed a pen from over the table and started writing.

_Hi, Summer!_

_Glad to hear you’re doing well. I’m okay too. I mean, the first few days were a bit shaky, ‘cause I didn’t know how some things worked, but I think I’m fully adapted now. It’s all so different, but exciting at the same time._

_Aw, you guys miss me? That’s sweet! I miss you all too. How’s the new guy? Are you two getting along? Please say hello to Marshall for me._

_That’s so typical Rob. I’m sorry you had to go through it, and at least he’s gone forever now, right? I’m trying not to think about the whole thing, you know. I’ve been feeling a lot better lately. Of course I’ll talk to my parents and everything, only so they stop worrying. I hope my mom lets me do the talking, ‘cause she still likes Rob for some reason. I don’t get her._

_I have good stuff on my end too. I met this really cute guy today. He’s in a band, a heavy metal band. They’re not that known yet, ‘cause they only got their first album out, but I’ll send you a copy of the magazine in my next letter so you’ll see him. He’s got the most perfect eyes, oh my God. I did a shoot with the band this afternoon and he invited me to see them live. So… I don’t know if I should go. I really really want to go, but I’m kind of scared at the same time, hahaha. His name’s Danny, by the way._

_That was a great interview!!! I couldn’t stop reading. Congrats on your first centerfold! And don’t worry, I’m already screaming internally, haha._

_So anyway. See you in two weeks!_

_Hugs,_

_Christine._

_P.S.: LOVED the JT photo. I left the magazine at the wrong time, right?_

Christine folded the paper and put it on the table, attaching a stick-it note to it on which she wrote “send later.” She then sat still, absorbing the sounds coming from the cassette player.

“Hey, Al!” she called.

“Yeah?” Alice shouted from her room.

“You were right! It sounds like Iron Maiden!”

“Told ya! Do you like it?”

“I think so. A little too fast for me, but it’s cool.”

Once Christine had finished her sentence, Alice was standing at the kitchen frame. She was wearing a female version of Lobotomy’s clothes from that day.

“I didn’t know you and the band shopped at the same place,” Christine commented, to which the brunette laughed.

“Good one. But yes, this stuff is like our uniform. Come on,” she made a gesture towards her room. “I’ll lend you some. We’ll look like twins.”

“But you’re bigger than me.”

“Oh, come on, everything looks good on you, Christine.”

In Alice’s bedroom, she opened her closet and got a denim vest with the phrase “Show No Mercy” sewed at the back in orange, fire-like letters. Below this there was a picture of a human-goat holding a sword and wearing a cape that pointed to the band’s logo (Slayer, written inside a pentagram).

“Perfect, isn’t it?” Alice took the vest as if it was a wedding dress.

“Uh…” Christine stared at the goat. “Don’t you have another Metallica one?”

“No… sorry, sweetie.” Alice smiled. “Come on, put it on.”

“But I don’t like Slayer.”

“I know, but don’t say that at the show, please,” Alice chuckled.

In just a few minutes Christine was changed into a smaller version of Alice, down to the white tennis shoes. She checked herself in the mirror for a while.

“Hey, I actually look cool,” she said, turning left and right.

“Told you so,” Alice said next to her and headed for the door. “Got the keys?”

“Yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

Alice drove slowly around Berkley’s streets, taking a glance at the clubs and bars. She pulled over at a place where loud and distorted music was coming out. A barely visible sign said “Kesha’s Inn” and the posters on the walls announced the bands for the night: Lepers and Lobotomy were opening for Metallica at only three dollars.

She noticed Christine’s disappointment.

“Well, it’s not the Palladium… but this is where all the shit happens.” She parked her car and turned it off before opening the door. “Let’s go.”

As soon as they stepped out of the car, all the male eyes were on them. The eyes were accompanied by hair (straight or curly), black leather jackets or denim ones, and white tennis shoes. Christine was staring back at all of them.

“Don’t look at them so much,” Alice advised, unable to keep a straight face.

“Sorry…” Christine said.

In a few seconds they were at the entrance. A long haired, moustache man with dark sunglasses sat at a desk full of band merchandise. He held the tickets in one hand.

“Alice!” he said. “Heard about Lobotomy, right?”

“Yeah, I listened to them at work. Phillip wrote their album review."

“Alright, always helping the underground bands.” He paused, looking down at the tickets and ripped two. “Who’s your friend?”

“Ah, this is Christine. She our new photographer.”

“Hello,” Christine said.

“Hello, Christine. Is this your first metal show?”

“Yeah.”

The man's big belly bounced with his chuckle. “Well, good luck!”

Christine’s eyes widened and Alice laughed as well. “He’s just messing with you.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry too much,” the man added. “Just stay away from the pit and have fun.”

“What’s the pit?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Alice replied. Then she took out two dollar bills and gave them to the man, who in returned ripped two tickets and handed them to Alice.

“Have fun, ladies,” the man said.

“Thanks, John!” Alice shouted as they got inside.

It was so dark that Christine felt as she was entering a basement. The only lights came from the bar (next to the girls, on their left) and the stage, where the Lepers were playing. Male shadows walked around the place, which smelled of cigarettes and beer, while others talked loudly in groups to be heard over the loud music.

“It’s not full yet,” Christine observed.

“What?” Alice yelled.

“It’s not full yet!

“Yeah, everyone comes late. What time did your guy tell you?”

“Ten.”

Alice smiled. “Then they’ll probably play at midnight. Come on, let’s buy some beers.”

They walked over to the bar, which was actually a sort of booth where beer plastic glasses appeared from as if it was magic.

“Two cups, please,” Alice said.

“Alright,” the owner said. They heard a bottle popping up and soon they each had their glasses in hands. “That’ll be two bucks.”

Alice paid quickly and the two girls stayed there with the full plastic cups. Christine put it to her mouth and sipped only foam. She grimaced.

“You have to drink the foam until the beer shows,” Alice said loudly.

After Christine had taken a good slug, she noticed Richie coming over to the bar, in the same clothes she had photographed him in. He waved at her, smiling.

“Who’s that?” Alice asked.

“Richie, the bassist.”

“He’s so little!”

Christine laughed. “Shut up,” she said. “He’s coming.”

Richie reached the girls. “Christine, right?” he said.

“Yeah.”

“How did you know about the show?”

“Dan told me.”

Richie chuckled. “Of course he did”.

"Dan is your singer?" Alice asked Richie.

"Yup."

“Oh, this is my friend Alice," Christine introduced her. "She works at the magazine too.”

“Nice t-shirt!” he complimented, making Alice grin. “I’m Richie, Lobotomy’s bassist.”

“Nice to meet you. Your playing is amazing.”

“What?”

“Your playing is amazing!”

“Thanks! You’re the one writing the article?”

“No, I write live shows reviews.”

“Awesome! Are you gonna write about this one?”

“You can bet on it!”

“Hang on.”

Richie turned over to the booth and picked up his beer. He drank some before saying, “Are you liking the Lepers?”

“Yeah,” Alice and Christine said at the same time. Just then, the band announced they were going to play a Motörhead cover, to which the small crowd cheered.

“Hey!” Richie waved his hand to Leo and Dan, who talked next to one of the speakers.

Alice gave Christine a significant look and drank her beer with a tiny smile. In seconds the drummer and the vocalist were standing next to them.

“Christine!” Dan shouted, both surprise and happiness on his face. “You came!”

“Yeah…” Christine smiled.

“Care to…?” he said. She couldn’t hear the rest, but he was pointing at her beer cup.

“Sure.”

She gave him the glass, their fingers touching for long enough for her to feel an electric shook that expanded over her entire body like a wave. Dan, meanwhile, gazed at her as he drank. When he was done, he gave the glass to Leo, next to him.

“Are we doing rounds?” Richie asked.

“Damn right!” Leo said and tippled.

“Aren’t there four of you?” Alice observed while the cup went to Richie’s hands.

“Hmm,” Richie swallowed. “Mike’s sleeping in the car.”

“You guys just hang out here before your own show?” Christine asked.

“Yeah,” Dan smiled. “Every band does it. We hang out with the fans, other bands.. it's awesome.”

Suddenly Christine got on her tiptoes and started looking around.

“Where are the Metallica guys?”

“They’ll be a little late,” Richie said.

In that moment Mike entered the club. He raised a hand as a greeting to everyone and stood next to Richie, who handed him the beer cup.

“This is empty, y’piece of shit.” They chuckled and Mike turned around to buy more beer.

“Did you like our album?” Dan asked Christine. They were only inches away from each other.

“Yeah, it was great!”

“What’s your favorite track?”

“The first one.”

“Thanks, I wrote it.”

They smiled at each other, then turned their attention to the group. Mike had finished the glass and was now at the booth, asking for a refill.

"Me and Mike actually wrote the rest of the songs," Richie told Christine. "Danny can't even play guitar!" He laughed.

"What?" Christine was amused and surprised.

"That's not true!" Dan defended himself. "I can play... sort of." He was turning red. "And 'Lobotomy' is our best song anyway."

"Don't start, Crispy," Richie said in jest as he pointed at the singer.

“Alright,” Mike was back with full cops, the beer nearly dropping down. “Who starts now?”

“Ladies first,” Richie said with a devilish smile and looked at Alice.

“Bring it,” she said. Mike handed her the glass and she drank a good amount.

She passed the beer to Christine, who stared into it before tippling.

“Drink, drink, drink!” Everyone chanted. Christine drank quickly, then finished with a small burp, covering her mouth with one hand. The group laughed while she blushed.

“My turn,” Dan said, and Christine gave him the glass, now with considerably less beer in it.

"Hey, Chris!" Alice shouted, amused.

"Ah, don't call me that again!" Christine said. She hated it.

"It was just a movie!" Alice had come closer. She was now shouting into her friend's hear. "We need to talk."

She began pushing her out of the way.

"What...?"

"We're going to the restroom, guys!" Alice shouted.

Once in the empty ladies' restroom, the noise was partly muffled by the walls.

"What?" Christine asked impatiently.

"He's so hot!" Alice said with her hands on each cheek. "And he's checking you out."

"What? He's not!"

"He was! When you weren't looking."

Christine fell compelled to check herself in the mirror. "Really?" she said as she turned.

"Yeah! I told you that outfit was killer..." Alice leaned on one of the stall doors. "So what are you gonna do?"

Now Christine was the one with her hands on her cheeks. She felt excited and terrified all the same. "I don't know... Is it too early to expect a date?"

"If he wasn't a musician, it would be. Things move fast in this business, you know how it is..."

"I do?" Christine was confused.

"Yeah... C'mon, hasn't Rick Springfield flirted with you?"

"Hah, I wish!"

"C'mon."

"I'm serious! That doesn't happen in girls magazines. Besides, I'm very professional."

Alice laughed. "Is that your most professional outfit?"

"Yes." Christine couldn't hold her laughter any longer. "Alright, let's go back," she said afterwards.

"Okay..."

When they got back Dan looked at Christine in pure awe. Alice was right, she thought.

They kept drinking and chatting while the fans entered the club. It was mostly a conversation about the local metal scene in which Alice left some chances for her friend to intervened and the latter thanked her internally. She didn't want to appear ignorant in front of Dan.

After half an hour, Lepers was saying goodbye to the fans.

“We better go”, Richie said, looking around. “Alrighty… See ya, girls.” The boys started walking away, Dan taking one last look at Christine. “Stay away from the pit!”

“What’s this pit?” Christine asked for the second time that night, this time doing air quotes on 'pit'.

Alice cackled. “Center, front row,” she answered. “It’s where all the fun happens… But with that many guys here, we’d be dead.”

“Have you been on the pit before?” Christine asked, the sound of instruments being plugged in came from the stage.

“With my brother to protect me, yeah, a few times.”

“So we’re staying here?”

“Well, either here or at one of the corners…” Alice looked at her friend. “Oh my God, you want to see him close up, don’t you?”

Christine’s lips curved into a smile and shut tight. “Yeah.”

“Fine, we’re there, left corner, next to the speakers.” Alice said and they started walking.

As Lobotomy tested the sound and lights, more long-haired guys came over, increasing the size of the crowd. They bought beers and chatted in groups, some of them cheekily staring at the only two girls.

Christine felt a hand on her waist and foul breath behind her.

“Hey…” a young man said.

“Get lost!” Christine shouted, slapping his hand.

“Yeah, fuck off!” Alice added. The guy disappeared into the darkness of the club. “Well, that was uncomfortable…”

“What’s up, Berkley?!” Dan shouted into the microphone, in a very different tone from his normal voice, causing shouting and cheering from the crowd. The girls hadn’t noticed Lobotomy was already ready to play. The red lights shone into the expecting faces. “We’ve come all the way from New York to show you our music. Hope you like it!”

The sound of the bass pumped deep into Christine’s stomach, followed by Leo’s aggressive drumming and Mike’s fast riffing. Once they were done with the intro, Dan grabbed the mic again and sang at the top of his lungs, which made the crowd wilder.

_Just lay in there and enjoy the show_

_Feel the drill going through your skull_

_Eyes wide open, fear gets you frozen_

_There_ ' _s no hope here,_

 _You_ ' _re gonna get a lobotomy_

_Lobotomy_

In that moment Christine realized why they called it a pit. They pushed each other back and forth, left and right, moving the two girls around. And with every Lobotomy note, they viciously punched the air and banged their heads.

Christine asked Alice, through gestures because the music was loud, why they were doing it.

“It’s headbanging!” Alice shouted in her roommate’s ear. “It’s fun! Try it!”

At first Christine just looked at her. Then she turned to the guy on her right and imitated him, her long hair whipping her face. Alice cheered and did the same. They didn’t headbang for long though, as the song soon ended.

“Alright!” Dan yelled and the crowd cheered in return. "This next song is about those corrupt politicians that fuck us up…"

"Fuck Reagan!!" Someone yelled from the back.

The rest of the crowd seemed to agree, nodding and echoing the phrase. Dan smirked and put his mouth over the microphone.

"This is _Corruption Found_ ”

 _You'_ _re born in the shit, you don_ ' _t have a choice_

_They call you lazy as they exploit you_

_Well now they_ ' _re gonna see, they_ ' _re gonna hear our voice_

 _Come on and take what_  ' _s rightfully yours_

Just then, an audience member climbed onto the stage, stood next to Dan and dove back into the crowd, male hands carrying him around. Soon, more guys were doing the same. Christine had ducked to avoid one of them, but just as she was coming up the surface someone else climbed on stage and jumped over everyone else, missing her head by an inch.

“What’s happening?” she asked Alice.

“This is normal! Just duck!”

During the guitar solo, Dan took off his t-shirt and banged his head along with everyone else. Christine watched his skinny and sweaty torso in awe. Alice, meanwhile, was bending over to reach the t-shirt with her hand.

“Al…”

“There you go!”

She had grabbed it and now handed it over to Christine. It was completely wet and reeked of sweat, but her thoughts were interrupted by booing that came from the back of the club. She turned her head and saw three corpulent, older men, dressed all in black. _Posers_ was the only word she could make out of their deep voices.

Dan looked at the culprits and gave them the finger. He kept on singing and the band kept on playing A few seconds later, a wine bottle flew over and crashed against Leo’s drum kit. Christine ducked again and covered her face from the broken pieces of glass.

“Let’s go!” Alice yelled.

Next thing Christine knew, she was being carried away from the crowd by Alice’s strong grip on her hand. They walked with difficulty, for there was pushing between the fans and the hecklers. Even in the darkness, Christine spotted a knife coming out of someone’s pocket.

She looked up and saw with relief some light coming out from what she could guess was the bathroom.

They finally escaped the madness of the crowd and opened the bathroom door, panting. The sound of punches, groaning and yelling could be heard.

“Are you okay?” Alice asked, panting.

“Yeah…” Christine answered, also panting.

The front door opened in a rumble, making way for the police’s siren. Just then, the four guys from Lobotomy entered the bathroom as well and closed the door behind them. Someone turned a cigarette’s lighter on and their faces could finally be seen clearly. It was Richie’s lighter.

Dan was clinching to Leo’s shoulder, trying not to settle his left leg. Christine looked down and saw a piece of glass embedded into the white tennis, some blood surrounding it. She grimaced and looked up again: The vocalist’s bandmates looked tired and sweaty, but all safe.

“So,” Dan said to Christine, smiling through his visible pain. “Did you like the show?”

“Danny, for fuck’s sake!” Leo said. “We need to get you into the ER”

“What?” Richie said. “We still have alcohol and needles.”

“Yeah,” Mike said, “‘cause last time it did wonders…”

A loud shattering interrupted their conversation. Turning around for the source of the noise, they found Leo had broken the bathroom windows.

“This should get us outta here,” he said.

Richie laughed. “I was thinking we could leave through the front door.”

“Are you kidding?” Leo said, “I can’t be arrested again, Richie.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Dan said, grimacing and missing Christine’s shocked look.

“Fine…” Richie said and looked up at the window. It was about six feet tall. “I’m going first. Mouse?”

Mike moved silently, knelt down and offered the palms of his intertwined hands as a staircase for Richie; who happily used it to climb up and through the window. “Here we go!” he said, and jumped to the other side.

“Is that my t-shirt?” Dan suddenly said, causing Christine to freeze for a moment.

“Yeah, it… it fell,” she said, giving it to him. “It fell off the stage.”

“Thanks for grabbing it,” he put it on, with the help of Leo, and smiled. “I don’t wanna caught pneumonia on top of tetanus.”

 

 

The clock in the ER room was marking 01:30 when Dan woke up. His head felt slightly dizzy, but the pain on his foot was gone. He looked down and saw the cut that went from between his big toe and pointer toe up through the middle of the foot. Up at his forearm, a piece of cotton was stuck to it with gauze.

A doctor walked in through the curtains and smiled at Dan. “Let’s see what we’ve got here…”

 He came closer and bent over to examine the wound. “No infection…” he concluded. “Just a couple of days of antibiotics and rest and you’ll be as good as new.”

“Doc, I gotta do shows here.”

“Well, cancel them, long-hair.”

“Aw, man!”

The nurse came over, bringing bandages and clutches, and resting the later on the wall.

“She’ll take it from here,” the doctor said and walked out.

Minutes later and Dan walked out slowly with the help of the crutches; his bandaged foot not touching the floor. He had his tennis shoe and medication on a bag. Christine and the others stood up.

“Wow…” Richie said. “Do we have to cancel now?”

“Tomorrow’s show, at least,” Dan said.

“Are you okay?” Christine asked, unable to stop herself.

Dan looked into her eyes. “Yeah… It wasn’t that deep.”

“I wondered what happened to James and the others…” Leo said.

“They’re probably getting beheaded on stage,” Mike said with a loud, hoarse cackle. Christine frowned at him. “Oh, you don’t know about the glam guy that got beaten at the Kesha’s?” Mike asked her. She shook her head. “Yeah, they cut him right through the---“

“He’s kidding,” Leo intervened quickly. “Shit, Mouse, why do you have to get so goddamn dark all the time?”

“Let’s go,” Richie suggested. “I just hope my car’s okay.”

They exited the hospital and began the walk towards the Kesha’s parking lot, which was somewhat near. Richie, Mike, and Alice took the lead, with Dan, Christine and Leo following them at a slower pace.

“Hey, Christine,” Dan said, lowering his voice. “Sorry for all the crap that went down there… I swear, we’ve had better shows.”

But she was smiling lightly. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Actually…” Richie said. “It kind of was.” He turned to Dan. “You gotta stop singing like Bruce Dickinson.”

The vocalist blurted out a chuckle. “At least I can sing…”

“What exactly is a ‘poser’”? Christine asked.

“A fake,” Richie answered.

“Anyone who doesn’t feel heavy metal in their blood,” Leo added.

She frowned slightly. “…Well, that seems stupid, doesn’t it?” she said, again unable to stop herself. She was about to apologize when Dan came to the rescue.

“Yeah, it’s dumb.”

“Crispy…”

“It is!”

“Beatles groupie…” Mike snapped.

The guys laughed it off as they continued walking. Suddenly, they broke into a conversation about Alice’s Discharge t-shirt.

“For how long are you guys staying here?” Christine asked Dan quietly.

“Probably a month. We have a lot of shows before we hit the road.”

“Oh.”

They kept walking, silently, while Christine felt her heart beating rapidly.

“Hey,” Dan said suddenly. “Would you like to hang out at our place tomorrow?”

“Sure. Where you’re staying at?”

“Westlake.”

“Really? Me and Alice live at Westlake too.”

“Awesome. I’ll give you the address when we get to the cars.”

In fifteen minutes they arrived at the outside of the Kesha’s, now only a big puddle of drain water with beer bottles and some blood floating around. The entrance to the club was blocked by the police’s yellow tape.

“Are the cops gone?” Leo asked nervously, making Richie snoop inside.

“Yeah, no cops here.”

Richie’s car was as old and dirty as Christine remembered. Meanwhile, Alice’s car had scratches all over it.

“Thank fucking God,” Richie said.

“Shit”, Alice said at the same time.

Richie went around the car slowly and stopped at Christine’s opposite side. “Yeah, it just has piss streaks,” he said. “Let’s go.”

It was Alice, standing next to her black car.

“Okay,” Dan said, “let me just get some piece of…” he started feeling all his pockets.

 “Hang on” Alice said. She opened the car’s front door, bent over inside and came out with a small piece of paper and a pen. “There you go,” she handed them to Dan, who wrote something quickly and gave the paper to Christine.

“That’s our address. Come by tomorrow night, if you have the time.”

“I will. It’s Sunday, my day off.”

“Cool,” Dan smiled. “This is where we part, I guess.”

Alice cleared her throat, making Christine blush a little.

Dan waved with one hand as Christine and Alice got in the latter’s car.


	3. Chapter 3

Dan laid on the couch, tapping his feet and smoking. It was six in the afternoon and he was waiting for Christine to knock on the door, since she had called minutes ago to confirm her visit. Everyone else in the house was asleep except for Mike, locked in one of the two bedrooms.

He got up, headed for Mike's room and knocked on the door.

“Alright, Mouse, beat it!”

“ _I won't be no soldier, I won't take no orders from no-one_ …” Mike sang from the other side at the tune of his own acoustic guitar.

“What’s that? A cat being ran over? C’mon, Mike, if you’re not gonna sleep at least get the hell out.”

“But I have nowhere to go to…” Mike replied in a child-like tone.

“Jesus…”

Mike kept playing and singing for a while, then he stopped. Dan could hear him putting the guitar on the floor.

“Alright, alright,” the guitarist said. “I’ll get dressed. I’ve just decided I won’t mess with your sacred dates.”

“Oh, ha-ha. At least I get some. When was the last time you got some, huh? Ya big old fag---”

Mike had opened the door. Grinning, he stared down at Dan. He was over a head taller than his singer.

“I have other, more _important_ stuff to with my time rather than girls…”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Mike messed Dan’s hair. “Good luck, Crispy. I’m off.”

Dan shook his head, smiling. “See ya.”

Some ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Dan jumped from the couch and went to open it. Christine stood there, a tremulous smile on her face. She wore a short black skirt over dotted panties, crop tops, and her tea-colored curls were partially covered by a black cloth headband.

“Christine,” Dan greeted, his eyes glowing in the dark. “Your headband’s back.”

“Yeah, I was missing it”, Christine said happily, touching it. Then she looked at Dan from head to toe: leather jacket, jeans, and white sneakers. “How’s your foot?”

“Better” He looked down as well and then up again. “Though I still can’t run. Come in.”

It was a small apartment, almost the same size as the one Alice shared with Christine, and dark as a dungeon. Two closed doors could be seen from the entrance, separated only by a damp and white bathroom from which foul smells came out of. On her right, a large couch rested in front of a small table; and at the back of the apartment there was a kitchen along with a refrigerator.

“Welcome to our lovely home,” Dan said.

He walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. Christine saw it was full of beer cans but it had no food except for the rotten cheese at the back. Dan took out two beer cans and went to sit in the couch.

“Help yourself, Christine”, he said.

Just as Christine was sitting down next to Dan, she screamed. She had spotted a cockroach on the room's right corner, next to the refrigerator.

 “Oh, that’s Clyde,” Dan said. “Hi, Clyde!” he waved at the animal.

Christine burst out in giggles. “You named a cockroach?”

“Yeah…” the insect was out of sight now, so Dan got his eyes back on Christine. “Gotta know them personally, since they visit so often. I think his girlfriend’s in the kitchen.”

Amused, she took a sip of the beer in front of her while looking at Dan.

“I forgot…” he said. “When is your next issue coming out?”

“This Saturday…” she answered. “You guys are on the back cover.”

“Last ones!” he laughed.

“ _Saving_ the best for the end, as Alice said.”

Dan took a sip of his beer and gave her a look. “How did you get into heavy metal? Was it because of the magazine?”

“Yeah. But I listened to rock before. I mean, I always liked bands like KISS, Cheap Trick, I don’t know, REO…”

“No kidding, I love Cheap Trick!  And KISS, oh man… What’s your favorite KISS album?”

“ _Unmasked_.”

Dan wrinkled his nose, like a little mouse. “Mine is _Destroyer_. What’s wrong with _Destroyer_?”

“Nothing, it’s just ‘Shandi’ is my favorite KISS song.”

“’Shandi’? Poser!”

They laughed as they looked into each other’s eyes. There was something about Dan’s laugh that made Christine really happy. She played with her hair as she drank more.

“Wanna know a secret?” Dan said.

“Always,” Christine grinned, resting her chin on her hand.

“I listen to REO sometimes. When no one’s around or everyone’s asleep. Don’t tell Jeff about it.” They smiled at each other.

“So you’re the poser,” she teased.

“I guess, yeah,” he chuckled and shrugged. “I don’t really care about that stuff. I’m in a heavy metal band, that’s all that matters.”

“That’s cool.”

Dan burped after taking another drink. Then he said, “How was it? That song… _Take it on the run, baby,_ ” he sang, eyes closed while he shook his head. Christine laughed, finding his non-metal singing voice oddly charming. “ _if that_ _’_ _s the way you want it, baby_ …”

“ _Then I don_ _’_ _t want you around_ …”

After they had shared another laugh, Christine smiled bitterly. “Actually, that song kind of brings me bad memories.”

“Huh… really?”

“Yeah, my ex dedicated it to me. Have you noticed the lyrics? They’re kind of creepy…”

Dan pursed his lips for a moment, recalling the words. “Hmm… yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“And the other song… ‘In Your Letter’. I think Kevin Cronin might be a secret creep.”

Dan laughed loudly, almost a cackle that made Christine melt inside. She had never heard a laugh like that before.

“So you guys broke up after he dedicated you the song or something?”

Christine shook her head. “No, I broke up with him because he broke all the windows in our apartment.” She wanted to say something else but drank her beer silently instead.

“That’s…" Dan took a deep breath, "that’s crazy," His eyes widened and he blinked. "Holy shit.”

“Yeah… I left San Diego because of it. That was like, the final straw.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Dan said, and took a slug of his drink, “I’m no stranger to crazy girlfriends.”

“Really?” Christine said.

“Yeah. I got together with this girl right after high school. We broke up just before the band moved here, and she swore she was gonna follow me all the way to LA to be with me forever and ever.” Christine chuckled. “Yeah, I know. The night before we left New York she scratched Richie’s car with her big fuckin’ witch nails.”

"She what?"

“For real," Dan said. "Those marks you saw on the car are all hers. She was crazy.”

He took a long gulp of whisky and helped himself some more from the bottle.

“Let’s make a toast,” he said. “For our new lives in LA”.

They both raised their plastic cubs high, said “cheers” and bumped them.

Dan chucked his empty can on the trash bag next to him and got up to open the fridge. He took out a whisky bottle.

“Want some?” he asked Christine.

“Sure,” she said.

He placed the bottle on the table and crouched to take out plastic cubs. He then poured some wine in two of them.

“So you listen to heavy bands now because of the magazine.”

“Yeah. Alice got me into Iron Maiden and Metallica. Dio and Ozzy are pretty cool too,” Christine said and watched Dan’s lips grew into a big smile. “And Dokken, oh my God…”

Dan’s smiled faded. “That’s a little too glam for my tastes.”

“So you hate Bon Jovi too?”

“Proudly”.

They smiled as they teased each other

“At least you don’t like prog, right?” he said.

“Like Pink Floyd?”

“Yeah.”

“Ew, no. One of my neighbors loved it. I swear, he played them every Sunday morning for months and months. It was a nightmare!”

Dan gave a satisfied smirk, drank his beer and burped.

“My dad loves Yes,” he said. “He tried to convince me for years of how great they were, but then punk was born, thank fucking God.” He drank from the whiskey glass. “Anyway. Where were we?”

“Heavy music.”

“Right. Heavy music. You said you like Maiden?”

“Yeah. My boss, you know, Steve, gives me albums to listen to at home, you know, like homework. _Piece of Mind_ is the best he’s ever given me so far.”

He fist the air with one hand and said, “Hah! I knew I wasn’t the only one. Better than _Number of the Beast_ , right?”

“Yeah.”

“What about Slayer?”

“They scare me.”

Dan laughed. “Yeah, I can see why. They’re pretty cool guys to hang out with, though. I met them at San Francisco last week.”

Christine finished her drink and smiled. “Have you met Bruce Dickinson by any chance?”

“No…” Dan stood up and opened the refrigerator. He took another beer can and sat down. “Although I was at Maiden’s show last year.”

“How was it?” She opened the can and drank some.

“Insane…They really owned the stage.”

They didn’t say anything for a while, only gazed at one another as they drank the beer.

“I can’t believe it,” Dan finally said with a small smile.

“What?” Christine did the same.

“I’m sitting here with a Madonna fan who also likes metal.” Christine blushed and kept on smiling. “You’re the coolest.”

“Thanks!”

Christine was glad she had noticed something on the refrigerator, for it allowed her to leave Dan’s penetrating gaze. It was Ninja Turtles stickers.

“You like the Ninja Turtles?” she asked.

Dan nodded. “I’m Donatello’s biggest fan,” he said. “Dressed up as him for last Halloween.”

“Hah, that’s awesome. I love Halloween. The only one in my family who does, actually.”

“Really? That sucks. My brother loves it. We always went trick or treating together.”

“And what did you do last year? With the guys, I mean.”

“Not much, just wander around New York, scaring little kids,” he smiled. “Mike went as fucking Michael Myers.”

There was another pause in which they kept drinking.

“So you’re from San Diego?” Dan asked.

Christine nodded and said, “Born and raised. I take it you’re from New York.”

“Brighton, to be precise. It’s this shitty lil’ town southeast New York.”

“Do you like it?”

“Hmm… It’s all quiet and nice, but there’s not much left to do. I got out of there when I finished school. But I always visit my parents back on the holidays.”

“That’s nice.”

They continued drinking until Dan finished his second beer can of the night. Then he said:

“D-do you wanna play on the pinball machine?”

“Sure, I love pinball! But where…?”

“In the basement. Leo stole it.” Dan got up.

“ _Stole_ it?”

“Yeah, he’s a little delinquent. C’mon.”

He guided her through a door behind the kitchen. He turned on the light and Christine could see instruments, a microphone, lots of cables and amplifiers. The pinball machine stood next to the stairs.

“This is our rehearsal room,” he said. “Gnarly, huh?”

“Yep.”

They headed downstairs, Dan still limping, and Christine noticed that the pinball machine was KISS-themed. It had the band logo in the upper center of the screen, and the band’s four faces in each corner.

Dan turned the machine on and took a handful of coins out of his pocket. “I hope these are enough.”

“Me too," she rubbed her hands in excitement.

“Ok, let’s play,” he said.

He inserted a coin through the slot and the machine sang, _and party everyday_!

“This is so cool,” Christine said.

“I know,” Dan said. “Leo is a fucking hero. Okay, girls first, so you start.”

“Okay.”

Dan stepped out and Christine took her place. She tapped on the right button and the game started, the ball bouncing around.

“How are you liking the magazine so far?” Dan asked as Christine kept the ball out of the pit with both hands on the buttons.

“It’s fun… Except this one time my bag got pissed on.” She grimaced as Dan chuckled. She was finding herself loving the way he laughed: the cheerful, unapologetic cackle.

“Who was it?” he asked.

“I can’t say. Contract stuff. But I think you can guess some names.”

There was a pause.

“The Mötley Crüe guys,” Dan finally said.

Christine paused the game and looked at the vocalist with a smirk. “Don’t say I told you.”

“I won’t.”

She tapped on the right button to resume her playing, but it didn’t work so she tried again.

“Uh-oh…”

“I’ll help you,” Dan said.

Christine felt his body behind her (he didn’t use perfume), his hand over hers as he tapped on the button several times and then his breath over her shoulder as he shook the pinball machine. She started laughing.

“You’re gonna break it…”

“Nah, these things work like that.”

The same KISS verse played and the ball was released. Christine smiled and resumed her playing.

“You’re good!” Dan said. “Do you play often?”

“Yeah, I used to. There was an arcade near my house in San Diego… Went there every weekend. Oh…” The game’s defeat melody filled the air. “Too much talking.”

Christine stepped away for Dan.

“You know, I have the all-time record for this game,” he said as the game restarted.

“Really? How much time?”

“Twenty-three minutes. I almost lost my fingers… It was a bet I did with Leo.”

Christine watched him maneuver the game’s buttons quickly, leaning a little to both sides while his teeth clenched in concentration. When he lost, around ten minutes later, she took his place. They played against each other for a good while, talking about arcade games, until they heard the front door opening.

Dan paused the game and said, “That must be Mike.”

He went upstairs and Christine followed, finding the guitarist in the living room, rubbing an eye.

“Hello, kids,” he said. “Having fun?”

“Yeah,” Dan and Christine said at the same time.

“We were just playing pinball,” the vocalist added. “Wanna join us?”

“No, I’m not twelve”, Mike stretched his arms and yawned. “I’m gonna crash.”

He’d started heading for a room next to the couch when Dan said, “Did you even get drunk?”

“Yeah, a little,” Mike replied. “Goodnight, kids,” he went into the room and closed the door.

Christine watched him as he disappeared behind the door. She turned to Dan with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Why does he call us kids?”

“Because he’s an old fart,” Dan smirked. “He’s twenty-eight and the rest of us is twenty-two. Well, I’m twenty-one.”

Christine smiled at Dan. “I’m the youngest at the magazine.”

“Really?” he said and turned his head with a hint of a smile. “How old?”

“Twenty-two.”

He smiled fully.

“Huh…” Dan put his hands on his hips. Outside, the night was already completed. “So what do want to do?” he asked.

“I don’t know…” Christine shrugged. “What do _you_ wanna do?”

“Hmm… II’ve got an idea. Be right back.”

Dan ran towards one of the rooms, the one at the back, and Christine sat on the couch for the second time. In a minute he was back in the living room, carrying a photo album. He sat next to her and opened it on the first slide. It was a photo of the band themselves, younger-looking and wearing make up, high heels, capes and what appeared to be fangs. It said, from left to right: _Dan Zimmerman, Richie Alesi, Mike '_ _Mouse_ _’ Sagan_ _, Leo Demoney._ _–_ _Astro Zombies, 1982_.

“Oh my God…” Christine could hardly suppress her giggles. “Why were you dressed like that?”

“We love the Misfits a lot.”

“And what kind of music did you play?”

“Misfits covers, of course. Actually, I still have my fangs with me.” He searched in his jeans pocket and took out a pair of fake fangs. “I used to put ketchup on them before heading for stage. We called it ‘vampire metal’”. He put them on and widened his mouth as he made crawls with his hands. Christine laughed.

“You make a cute vampire.”

“Reary?” Dan said, grinning so that drool came out of his mouth. “ I’m cute?”

Christine’s cheeks flushed and she burst into laughter. Dan was grinning through the fangs.

“C’mon, tell me,” he said.

“Okay, okay!” Christine said, looking down. “Yes, you’re cute.”

He searched for her beneath her chin, making her blush more. “You don have t'hide… Gorges…”

“What did you just call me?” Christine asked with a huge smile.

"Gorges."

She laughed. Dan took off the fangs and said, “Gorgeous.” Then, without giving her time to blush some more, he handed her the fangs. “Try them on.”

She did as told, noticing they fit her mouth perfectly. “Rawr!”

Dan laughed. “That’s a dog, not a vampire!”

Christine took out the fangs. “Dog metal?”

He grinned. “A new genre created by Christine.”

They chuckled, after which she flipped another page of the album. This time, it was a full-colored photo of the band playing live, with Dan upfront and the others at the back, blurry. They were wearing the same clothes and make up as the first photo, combined with fake blood dropping out of their mouths.

“They nearly kicked us out of that venue because they thought the blood was real,” he said, pointing at the fake blood on the photograph.

Christine looked up. “And what did you do?”

“We had to tell them it wasn’t real. But it was no fun after that.”

She flipped another page and found what appeared to be a recent picture of the band. They posed happily, their mouths opened and their tongues out. On the bottom right corner, it said _Lobotomy, 1983_.

“Was this in New York?” She asked.

“Brooklyn.”

“Hmm. You told me mine was the first photoshoot for you guys…”

“The first official one, yes. We’d never been on a magazine or paper before.”

“Ah… Are you excited? You might become famous.”

“Yeah, we don’t mind that much,” he answered. “We’re not in it for the money, we just wanna play music.”

Christine nodded. “That’s cool, I respect that. People only care about money these days…”

Suddenly, she noticed the clock on the wall in front of her. “Oh God, it’s late,” she said, getting up. “I have work tomorrow morning.”

“A band will wake up early?” Dan asked, also getting up. “That’s strange,” he smiled.

She smiled back at him. “No, no band. I work part time at an ice-cream place. It was the first thing I got when I moved here.”

He followed her until the door frame, where she turned around with a clueless smile on her face.

“I’ll walk you home,” Dan explained. “It gets dangerous this time at night.”

“Thank you, that’s nice.”

They stepped out of the house and started walking up, Dan limping next to Christine.

“Do we really live that close?” he asked.

“Yeah, just one block away.”

They walked in silence for a while.

“You hate that ice cream place, don’t you?” Dan guessed Christine’s face.

“Wouldn’t you?” she looked at him, then smiled slightly. “I hope it’s only temporary. I did weddings at San Diego, but no one knows me here yet.”

They had arrived at the street’s corner. Christine turned left and kept on walking.

“I can recommend you to bands if you’d like,” Dan said.

“You'd do that? That’s awesome, thanks.”

“Don’t worry. I used to work at McDonalds back in New York. I know how much it sucks.”

“And you don’t have to anymore?”

Dan scratched the back of his head. “My mom sends me money once in a while. Then, I don’t know, we get any job we can. But it’s hard because we have to be on the road all the time.”

“Oh.”

They walked in silence again until they reached the building.

“This is it,” Christine said, pointing. “I live on the third story.”

“Awesome, neighbor”. They smiled at each other. “Hey, where is this ice cream place? I might drop by tomorrow?”

“It’s right in front of the magazine’s headquarters, actually.”

“Oh, thanks.”

The light on the girls’ apartment were out, so Christine could guess Alice was either asleep or at a show.

“Well, this was fun…” she said to Dan, turning on her feet to face him.

“It was.”

“See you tomorrow, Danny. Can I call you Danny?”

"Absolutely."

“Ok, Danny," she said happily.

"See ya, Christine."

He watched her open the front door and go up the stairs as she, without him knowing, smiled widely.


	4. Chapter 4

Christine sat behind the light blue counter, waiting for costumers as she look around the pink walls. She had waited for nearly half an hour now, so she decided to turn on the small radio next to her and tuned it on the rock station. She went back to her seat, feeling sleepy again, and hummed to the song the DJ had announced: Van Halen’s “Jump”.

“A vanilla icecream, please.”

Christine stood up and looked at her costumer: an old woman standing next to what was probably her grandson.

“Coming right away,” Christine said mechanically.

She prepared the ice cream cone for the woman and when she gave it to her she spotted Dan, smiling at the entrance. He was wearing the same clothes as the day before.

“That would be five dollars,” she said with a forced smile. The woman paid and left the store, Dan taking her place.

“Hi, Christine”, he said as he approached the counter.

“Danny!” Christine smiled.

“What do you got?”

Christine looked down at the squares with the ice cream flavors below her. “Um, chocolate, vanilla, coco, strawberry…” She raised her head. “Oh, and the milkshakes too, can’t forget that.”

“Hmm. Give me a strawberry milkshake.”

“Coming right up.”

When Christine had finished preparing the milkshake, she held the tall glass with the straw inside and walked towards the table Dan was sat at.

“Let’s share,” Dan said. “Bring another straw for you”.

Christine went back to the counter and brought the straw as quickly as she could. Then she sat in front of Dan and put it in the glass.

Their knees touched as they drank from the straws. Christine could feel the fabric of her pants in touch with the denim, and smelled the now familiar scent of beer and sticky sweat over the clothes. This information, instead of repelling her, excited her. She felt like riding on a rollercoaster.

They smiled at each other for no reason. Then Dan took a break to swallow.

“You look good in that uniform.”

“Really?” Christine looked down on it: A mix of pastel colors that ended at her knees. “I hate it, it's dumb”.

“No, thanks”, Dan smiled. “Come on.”

“Well, thanks, but I prefer the Madonna look.”

Dan was glancing at the top of her head. “They don’t let you wear your headband here?” he asked.

“No, they’re square like that.”

“Assmunchers…”

 _"We have KISS' newest hit_ _”_ , Dan made a funny grimace, _“_ _Heaven's on Fire. Fantastic track, hope you enjoy!"_

Paul Stanley's vocal solo played through the speakers. Christine was giving Dan a look, half amused, half disappointed.

"What's wrong with the song?" she said. "I love it.”

"It sounds like fucking Bon Jovi…"

"Here we go again…" Christine rolled her eyes while smiling. Next she slurped more of her milkshake.

"No, seriously. KISS is badass, they didn’t need to go all glam." He looked up from his milkshake and found Christine smiling fully. He frowned in confusion and she shrugged.

"You look cute when you're angry," she said.

Dan leaned back as he smiled. "And you look cute all the time."

At that moment, Christine found that the song's lyrics best described her feelings:

_You're comin' closer, I can hear you breathe_

_You drive me crazy when you start to tease_

_You could bring the devil to his knees_

“Hey,” Dan suddenly said, “do you want to take some pictures of us again? We’ll be rehearsing some days at the house.”

“Sure. What day?”

“Saturday morning.”

“Sunday, better.”

“Right, Sunday, I forgot.”

“What do you want the pictures for?” Christine asked.

“Flyers… Oh, I almost forgot: bring a Polaroid, ‘cause we want the photos the same day.”

“Okay, sure.”

Christine didn’t know what to say next, so they let the song run its course as they finished the milkshake. Dan made slurping sounds as he finished the milkshake, which amused Christine.

“How much is it?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah. It’s just a milkshake. I’ll pay it with my own money.”

“Thanks,” Dan said. “I gotta go now,” he stood up. “San Francisco again.”

“Good luck, Danny,” Christine said from her seat.

“Thanks. See you Sunday.”

“See ya.”

Only when Dan was gone did Christine notice there was another costumer in the store: a woman, about fifty years old, who looked at the girl as if the latter were in great danger. Then she darted her eyes towards the skinny, long hair, figured walking away.

“What can I help you with?” Christine asked, smiling.

 

Christine knocked on the door, her heavy bag hanging from her shoulders. After a moment she heard Richie's voice from the inside.

"Coming!"

He opened the door.

"Hi, Christine!" he got on his toes, his smile replaced with a frown. "Hell, what do you carry in there?"

"I've got a wedding this afternoon. Got my other clothes in there."

"Let me carry it for you."

"You don't have--"

But Richie had already got the bag off Christine. He's strong for being so little, she thought.

"Thank you, Richie."

"You're welcome. Come in."

The house was in a worse state than Christine had left it. Junk food wrappers and empty beer cans decorated the floor and tables, and flies hovered looking for food.

"You're here early," Richie said as they walked through the mess. "We're just tuning in."

They reached the door that led to the basement and went downstairs.

It was barely lit, with a light bulb in the middle of the roof and the sun coming through the small window. Mike didn't look up, focused on his guitar, while Leo waved with his cigarette-free hand.

Richie gave the bag back to Christine, who put it on the floor and knelt down to unzip it. She took out her camera and closed the bag.

"Where's Danny?" she asked as she stood up.

"In the bathroom," Richie answered.

"Making himself pretty," Mike added, still not looking up.

Christine couldn't hold back her smile. Then she took her camera out of the bag. "I'm gonna need a picture of you guys without the instruments first."

"Why?" Mike said, looking at Christine.

"I just think it'd look really cool."

The upstairs door opened and Dan came in, sporting his usual smile.

"How's your foot?" Christine asked.

"As good as new. In fact…"

He took momentum and jumped directly to the ground, about six feet high, losing balance for a while before falling on his buttocks. His bandmates laughed.

"Careful, Crispy" Richie said."

"I'm fine," Dan, already up, said. He had blushed a little. "Hi," he said to Christine, as if containing his voice.

"Hi," Christine said.

He peeked behind her. "Wow, that's a huge bag."

"Yeah, I got a wedding in the afternoon."

Dan's brown eyebrows went up, his eyes widening. "You're getting married and you didn't tell me?"

Christine's giggle was interrupted by Mike clearing his throat.

"Alright!" Dan said walked behind the microphone.

"Actually, we're doing a photo with the instruments in the back, Danny," Christine said.

"Yeah," Richie said.

They took the same spots as in the garbage session, with Danny at the center, surrounded by Leo and Mike, and Richie next to Mike.

Christine watched them through the lenses of the camera and told Richie to sit in front of everyone else, to which Richie did so.

"Now that's better," Christine said and started clicking.

Dan made a snarling face, Mike and Dan stood defiantly, while Richie smiled with his palms on the floor.

"Okay," Christine said as he took her sight off the camera, "I think that's all we need for now."

"How do we look?" Dan asked.

"Let's see…"

The colored photo slid out of the camera and Christine took it, looking at her photograph.

"It's great," Dan said, next to her. "Put it over this amp."

They each went back to their instruments and played random notes. Dan tapped on the microphone. "Testing, testing, one two," he said. Christine's lips widened into a smile. "Ground control to Major Tom…" he sang in a deep voice. She laughed.

"Wasted Life," Leo shouted from the back, causing Christine to jolt a bit. "One, two," he hit his drumsticks and the band started playing.

_I could be a soldier_

_Go out there and fight to save this land_

_Be a people's soldier_

_Paramilitary gun in hand_

Christine watched in delight how Dan's face transformed from sweet to fierce. Her camera rested in her hands, forgotten.

_I won't be a soldier_

_I won't take no orders from no-one_

_Stuff their fucking armies_

_Killing isn't my idea of fun_

She suddenly remembered she was supposed to take pictures and took her distance to do it. She took some upfront and then sat on one of the amplifiers of the left corner for a different angle.

When the song was over, Dan and Leo took water bottles from the floor and drank. Christine put her camera over the amplifier.

"How are the shots?" Richie said.

"Good. They're coming up great."

After three more songs, the doorbell rang.

"That must be the pizza," Richie said.

He left his bass on the floor and ran upstairs. He came back with two boxes of pizza and a soda bottle.

"Careful with the stuff, Richie," Leo said.

"I'm fine-- whoa."

Richie nearly tripped on the last staircase, but was now firmly carrying the food, which he put on top of the amplifiers. As the others gathered around, he opened one of the boxes.

"This one is all for you, Christine. It's your payment."

She stared down at the pizza for a while before carefully grabbing a slice. The fat was trickling down. She took a bite.

"Delicious," she said, mouthful. "Thanks."

"I knew you'd like it. Signore Paolo makes the best pizza around here."

"And cheap too," Leo added as he grabbed a slice from the second box.

The rest of the group started eating from the other box, sharing the soda straight from the bottle. They stood or sat near the pinball machine. Dan and Christine climbed on top of one of the amplifiers, at the other side of the room, and sat very close together.

"I'm gonna bring some glasses," Richie said and left the basement. Leo and Mike ate and talked at the opposite side of the room.

Dan picked some cheese from his pizza slice, rolled it with one finger and ate it. Christine's eyes had widened and she was trying not to laugh at the same time that he smiled with a full mouth. She finally chuckled. And oddly, she still couldn’t take her eyes off Dan, who ate the rest of the pizza normally and rolled only the cheese.

"So..." Dan said, when he had finished the slice. "What do you do besides photographing?"

"Like a hobby?"

"Yeah.”

"I like drawing. And painting."

Dan's eyebrows went up in excitement as Christine ate. "You an artist?"

"Well, I've never had anything on an exhibition…"

"How come?"

"I don't know," Christine said and swallowed. "I do it for fun." She shrugged.

"Hmm… Do you have any of your stuff with you?"

Christine swallowed the food. "Yes, actually," she said, leaving the slice of pizza on her box. "I made a drawing of you guys."

"Cool," Dan said as Christine bent over and took out a sheet of paper from her bag.

She sat on the amplifier again and gave the drawing to Dan. It was a smaller, cartoon version of Lobotomy, but keeping the guy's spots from the original photo. Except for the background, it was fully colored, with the guys' hair, eyes and clothes.

"This is awesome", Dan complimented and Christine smiled in response. "Hey, Leo, check this out." He waved the paper in front of the bassist.

"What?" Leo said.

"Christine drew us."

The drummer came over and held the drawing before his eyes. "Oh, it's like a miniature version of us… Hah, Mike looks pissed, as usual."

"Let me see that," Mike said and approached the group. Soon everyone was standing around the drawing. Christine remembered the afternoon when she started it, how she tried different color combinations before getting Dan's eyes the exact shade of brown.

Dan's eyes were on the drawing again. "And I look really alike!" He said, excited.

"Thanks, Danny.”

"No, thank you." He look delighted. "Can I keep it?"

Christine thought about it for a second, then her lips curved into a smile.

"Yeah, sure."

She handed him the paper, the now familiar electric shock of their hands touching.

Dan put the drawing on top of the photos and in that moment Richie came back with a bag containing plastic glasses. He went downstairs quickly and started delivering them.

"A glass for the lady."

Richie gave her a plastic glass to and poured soda in it.

"Thanks," she said.

He gave another glass to Dan, who kept his arm stuck out, waiting for the soda.

"Get it yourself, Crispy," Richie said.

"Midget..."

Dan grabbed the soda bottle out of Richie and poured the beverage into his glass.

"Why do they call you Crispy?" Christine asked.

"It's his favorite cereal," Richie answered, on the verge of laughter. "His mommy used to send it to him back in New York."

" _Danny!_ " a woman's shriek came out from the other side of the basement. It was Mike. " _Are you eating properly over there?_ "

The other bandmates cackled.

"Shut up!" Dan said, head hung in shame.

"Are you an only child?” Christine asked him, still smiling.

"No, I have a brother. Older. How about you?”

"An older sister. But way way older. Ten years older.”

“Wow. So I guess you didn’t spend much time with her?”

“No. She left home when I was eight. She’s a doctor now.” Christine shrugged. “We don’t talk much.”

A loud cough was heard. Christine looked in front of her and saw Leo bent over by the pinball machine, face turning red as he continued to cough.

"Leo!"

"You okay, man?"

"Shit"

He started heaving. She climbed off the amplifier, accidentally spilling the soda on her pants, and ran towards the drummer.

With everyone else surrounding Leo, Mike took him from behind and pressed on his stomach, lifting him up. An olive flew out of his mouth.

He breathed in an out, hands on his knees. “Thanks, man”.

"Did you see a light?" Mike joked.

"Suck my dick, Mouse…"

Christine bent over.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah...” He coughed one last time.

She felt Dan’s eyes on her and got on her feet.

"What?" Christine said, even though the answer was in the mesmerizing intensity with which those brown eyes looked at her.

"Nothing… Let's go finish that pizza."

Dan and Christine went back to sit on the amplifiers, where they finished eating their pizzas and drinking the sodas in a couple of minutes. They watched Mike and Richie hung their instruments over their shoulders and Leo sitting at the drum set. They started playing.

"So what else do you like, Danny?" Christine asked.

"Comic books," Dan said. "The Ninja Turtles, Judge Dread, Spiderman…"

"Oh my God, you're a nerd."

"Hell yeah. I collect them all."

They smiled at each other. Dan got closer.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"I-I really like you," he said, lowering his voice and piercing her with his eyes.

Christine held her breath and smiled slightly.

"I like you too, Danny."

Dan put his hand over Christine's, which rested on top of the amplifier, and started exploring her skin smoothly, as if he had all the time in the world. Christine responded with a quicker heartbeat, the electric waves throughout her entire body and by grazing her thumb with his.

She raised her head and found him staring into her. Squeezing their hands together, they leaned over for a kiss, eyes closed. Just when their lips had touched there was a whistle.

"Leo…" Dan said under his breath, eyes now opened. He was still close to Christine.

"Sorry," the drummer said. "I got too excited," he added and chuckled hoarsely.

Richie winked at smiled at Christine, who was still blushing and trying to keep her head low, and started playing and unknown melody on his bass. Mike soon followed on the guitar.

Christine took the time to pack her things and leave the photos over the amplifier.

"I should probably go," she said to Dan as she lifted the bag. "The wedding is soon."

He didn’t say anything, looking at her with sad eyes. Christine gestured him to come with her and the two headed for the stairs.

"Guys…" she called.

Richie stopped playing and turned around. "Yes, m'lady."

"I'm leaving the photos over there," she pointed to the amplifier.

"Okay," Richie said. "Thanks a million. Really."

"No problem. I have to go now. Bye, guys!"

"Bye, Christine."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Christine waved goodbye at the three of them, went upstairs and closed the door, Dan following her. They walked together through the living room until they reached the front door.

She put her bag on the floor and smiled at Dan, who still looked miserable, got closer and gave him a peck on the left corner of his lips. It lasted no more than two seconds, but she loved the taste of his lips, and judging by Dan's wanton face, the feeling was mutual.

"See you around," she said with an enigmatic smile, picked up her bag and left the house.


	5. Chapter 5

Christine sighed in nostalgia as she parked her car in front of Summer’s house. The usual scent of lilies in the garden welcomed her in when she stepped out, followed by Rudolph (the Logan’s door) barking and wiggling his tail in the living room’s couch. He ran inside the house, probably to tell his masters that they had visitors. Christine walked over the entrance and ran the bell.

She could hear Summer’s excited yelp and footsteps coming closer. She waited for a moment until the door opened.

“Christine!” Summer greeted and got on her toes to hug her. She was much shorter than her friend.

“Oh my god, Summer! It feels like _ages_!”

“I know!”

They broke the hug.

“Sorry I didn’t write you back,” Summer said. “I was up to here with work.”

“Don’t worry, we were gonna see each other anyway. How’s stuff?”

They stepped inside the house, Christine closing the door.

“Great,” Summer replied as they passed the living room. Her parents were having lunch in front of the television.

“Hi, Christine,” Summer’s mother said. She was a robust woman and her hair was bright blonde, just like Summer’s. “How was the trip?”

“There was a bit of traffic, but it was okay.”

“Thank goodness,” she put a hand over her chest. “Travelling alone… you ought to be careful with that.”

“Yes, Mrs. Logan.”

“Shall we go?” Summer asked.

“Sweetie, don’t be impatient,” her mother said as she cut up some beef. “Christine hasn’t even said hello to your father.”

“But we have to be there early.”

“And you will. Now, will you two sit with us for a while?”

“Alright…” Summer said reluctantly. She and Christine sat.

“Hi, Mr. Logan,” Christine said to the man on her right. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, dear,” Summer’s father answered, mouth-full. He swallowed and said, “How’s LA treating you?”

“Wonderful.”

“I’m glad.”

 “So…” Mrs. Logan said to Christine. “How’s your love life?”

Christine chuckled nervously. “Fine…”

“New boyfriend yet?”

“No… not quite, Mrs. Logan.”

With the corner of her eye, Christine saw Summer smiling slyly.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Rob…” the lady continued. “I talked to your mother, you know, the night you left.“

“Oh?”

“Yes, she seems to have taken a like for him. But you know she only wants what’s best for you, right?”

“Yes, I know…”

“I hope Rob rots in hell,” Summer said.

“Summer!” her mother scolded her.

“Sorry, mom, but you know how awful he was.” A cold silence followed those words, interrupted only by the cutting of meat. Summer suddenly checked her watch. “We have to go now, mom.”

“Fine,” Mrs. Logan said and the girls stood up. “Aren’t you cold with that sweater?”

“No, it’s fine.”

They crossed the living room and headed for the door.

“Got the tickets?” Christine asked her friend, who slid a hand inside her jeans pocket and took out two tickets. She hung them in the air like the keys of the car.

“Oh dear God, it’s real,” Christine said, aghast.

After they let out a small scream, Summer turned around.

“Bye mom, bye dad!” she waved.

“You girls take care of yourselves!” Summer’s father shouted on their way out.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Logan!” Christine shouted back, and they closed the door.

As they walked towards Christine’s car, Summer started singing:

“ _The reflex…_ ”

“ _It’s an only child_ …” Christine continued. “… _he’s waiting in the park…_ ”

They got in the car and Christine turned it on. She drove out of the parkway and headed for the highway while they kept singing.

“How’s your guy?” Summer suddenly asked.

“Danny? I brought the magazine so you could see him. It’s over there.”

Summer opened the drawer in front of her, and grabbed the issue of _Loud & Proud. _She opened it.

“It’s on the back,” Christine told her.

“Oh.”

Summer flipped the magazine and read:

“ _The East Coast Gets in Your Face With Thrashing Metal_ ,” she read. “Oh I can see who he is. Super cute!”

“Thanks,” Christine said, with a thrift of pride in her voice.

“What happened after that show?”

“Well, I went to it with Alice, we almost got killed, then---“

“Almost got _killed_?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” Christine chuckled, “Danny was the one really injured. They threw a bottle at him.”

“Oh my God,” Summer put a hand up to her mouth.

“Yeah, it was scary. So anyway. We all went to the ER, I mean, me and Alice and the band, and we waited until Danny was okay.”

“And then?”

“He invited me to hang out at their apartment, so that was our first date.”

“How exciting! And how did that go?”

“Great. He’s so cute, Summer.”

“Oh my God. Did you kiss on that date?”

“No, that happened the third time we saw each other. Well, almost.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were interrupted!”

“Ugh, don’t you hate it when that happens?”

“Yes…” Christine said and smirked. “But I gave him a peck when we were saying goodbye.”

“What? That doesn’t sound like you…”

"Well, I thought I might follow Patty's column," Christine excused herself. " _Always leave him wanting for more_ ," she quoted. 

"Oh, give me a break!" Summer rolled her eyes. "I'll believe Patty when she can keep a boyfriend for longer than a month." 

Christine chuckled. "Isn't Anthony with her?"

"No, they broke up. Again."

"Oh."

Summer turned the volume up.

_ And if the fires burn out there's only fire to blame _

_ (Hold back the rain) _

_ No time for worry 'cause we're on the roam again _

_ (Hold back the rain) _

_ The clouds all scatter and we ride the outside lane _

_ (Hold back the rain) _

_ Not on your own so help me please, hold back the rain _

"So what happens now?" Summer asked.

"Well, he left on tour, so I guess I’ll wait,” Christine replied.

"Wait? But you don't know if you'll ever see him again."

"Yeah, but… I don't know, I just can't picture myself dating anyone else." 

"Hmm…" Summer hummed. After a while he grabbed Christine's arm. "Oh, sweetie, this is so romantic!" 

"It is, right?" Christine said proudly. 

Summer smiled at her. "Does he make you laugh? 'Cause that's important." 

"I don't know... He's funny sometimes, but other times he's just goofy..." She turned her head to Summer as the car stopped at a red light. " and he likes the Ninja Turtles and comic books.”

"Comic books! Really?" 

"Yeah."

"So he's not a psycho." 

"Not at all. He's actually really nice."

"Sounds like a catch,” Summer said, hummed a bit of the song then sang: “ _Faces everywhere pulling grins and signs and things…_ I think I need to pee, I’m too excited!”.

“Oh, no, we’re almost there. Hold it for a while.”

“There’s still a lines of traffic ahead of us!”

“Hold it,” Christine said and giggled. “It won’t take long… Hey, you haven’t told me how you’ve been.”

Summer stretched herself on the seat before answering. “Oh, you know, same old same old.”

“Who’s the new guy?”

“Oh, David! He’s so fabulous, sweetie.”

“Gay.”

“Absolutely. And a great shopping mate. We like the same music too.”

Christine smiled. “Awesome. Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, he’s got one.”

“Not him, you knucklehead,” Christine and Summer laughed. “ _You_.”

“I was dating someone… But then he started hitting on Patty, so I had to dump him.”

“Bummer. What was his name?”

“Not important.”

The two girls laugh it off.

They let the song run its course as they sang it. Then Summer spoke again:

“How are we on the money department?”

“Better”, Christine chuckled. “I got more wedding clients now.”

“That’s great! Are you still living with Alice?”

“For now, yeah.”

The screaming of teenage girls interrupted their conversation. It came from behind them, so they both turned around in their seats and saw a black limousine approaching at a faster speed than the other cars, a fact that was helped by the police payroll in front of the vehicle. 

"Oh my God," Christine and Summer said at the same time.

"It's them, isn't it?" Summer asked, excited. 

Christine couldn’t see a thing inside the limousine, but she answered positively.

The vehicle tried to make its way through the mob of girls who tried to sneak a hand through the window, shouted "I love you!" or screamed male names like Simon or John. It was fairly close to Christine’s car now, and with one play of his siren, the policeman made the screaming girls reluctantly move away. 

As the limousine passed by Christine's car in what she thought was slow motion, her heart gave a little jump and she waved at the five boys. Next to her, Summer was yelling for John Taylor. "JT!" she pleaded, but the limousine was already off to the arena.


	6. Part 2: The F Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 consists of little vignettes of Christine's childhood, teenage years and finally young adulthood. No matter how little, however, each vignette will count as a chapter. Enjoy :)

**Part 2: The F Word**

 

 **1973** **–** **San Diego, CA**

Some of the eleven year olds in the class tapped their hands and feet, others threw things at each other and others simply sat quietly, all waiting for their teacher to arrive. Christine was in the latter group, drawing in the pages of the black notebook Mr. H. had given her for her birthday. She hated its color, even though he had told her it was the only one he could find. All things considered, she had drawn a lot during that month. With a carbon chalk, she was now depicting the landscape outside: full of trees, a clear sky and the bright sun in between. She longed for the holidays already.

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted Christine’s musings. She looked up: a middle-age woman in glasses was staring at the children, arms folded.

“Hello, children,” she said in a monotone voice. “I’m Mrs. Kassidy, your new teacher.”

“Hello, Mrs. Kassidy,” the students said at once.

Mrs. Kassidy gave out a small smile, no bigger than a gesture. “I’m bringing a new student with you, and I hope you all make him feel at home.” She turned her head towards the door and made a hand movement. “Come in, Robert. Come.”

In small steps, a skinny, blonde boy entered the class. He was tall, blonde, and his sight was glued to the ground.

“This is Robert Burley,” Mrs. Kassidy said. “He comes from Virginia.”

A few greetings came from the students, but Robert said nothing. He glanced at them for a brief moment and then lowered his head again.

“Well…” Mrs. Kassidy rubbed her hands. “Robert, go sit there,” she pointed to the empty seat behind Christine.

He walked towards the seat, carrying his bag as if it weighed a lot, and sat where his teacher had assigned him to. As Mrs. Kassidy gave the class directions, Christine turned around. There was something about the new boy that caught her attention, maybe it was his eyes, blue as marbles.

“Hi,” she said, but Robert didn’t reply. He bent over and took out his History book.

“Page five, please,” the teacher instructed.

“I’m Christine,” Christine insisted. The boy frowned at her before directing his attention to the board.

A little hurt, she turned on her seat again and took out her own textbook.

When the recess started and everyone ran out of their seats and towards the door, Christine noticed that the Robert had stayed where he was. He was writing something over a notebook.

“Don’t you wanna go out?” Christine asked, standing next to him. Her friends were gesturing her to come out of the class but she ignored them, so they left. The room emptied in seconds.

“I don’t like recess,” he said.

“Why?”

Robert shrugged, his lips twisted to one side. Christine peeked into what was written on his textbook:

_Robert E._

“E?” she asked. She remembered that the teacher had introduced him as Robert Burley.

The boy frowned and pursed his lips. “Leave me alone, okay?”

As soon as Robert had finished his sentence, Christine had understood the reason behind the change in surnames, but she didn’t say a word. He looked up, still anger on his face, and continued overwriting “Robert E.” with his pen.

“I used to be an Edwards”, he said in a low voice. “Then I was brought here and now I’m a Burley. Happy?”

He left his pen on the book and stood up, but Christine grabbed him by the hand just when he was about to leave.

“I’m a foster too,” she spoke.

Robert looked up at her with wide eyes, but didn’t say anything. Christine, on the other hand, started looking around the class and out the windows. She then came closer to the new boy and whispered:

“My parents adopted me when I was a baby.”

She stepped back, watching Robert’s reaction as she let go of his hand. He was frowning again.

“You’re not lying?” he said.

Christine shook her head.

“So what’s your real last name?”

It was Christine’s turn to shrug. “The one I have now. I don’t care much. My parents always tell me they love me.”

There was jealousy and anger in the boy’s blue eyes as he squinted. “This is my fourth home so far.”

“Do you like it?”

He nodded.

“Then it’s gonna be okay,” Christine said. “Hey, why don’t you come to my house this afternoon? We can play Lie Detector.”

The boy’s countenance was lightened up for a moment. “That’s my favorite game,” he said.

Christine grinned. “Come on, let’s go outside. I’ll introduce you to my friends.”


	7. Chapter 7

**1975** **–** **San Diego, CA**

It was early in the morning of Christine’s birthday. A lot of people had confirmed their assistance, even in the middle of the summer holidays. While her mother and sister – who had come for the occasion – baked cake and her father read the newspaper, Christine painted in the privacy of her room, her favorite Bee Gees record spinning.

There was a knock on the door.

“Honey?” her father called.

“Yeah?” an absent-minded Christine responded. She was focusing intently on the landscape she was working on.

“Rob is here.”

She stopped painting and put her brush in a wooden vase.

“I’ll be there in a second!” She shouted over the music.

Christine went to the bathroom to wash her hands, then came back and changed her clothes into a paisley top and jeans, spending a good while in front of the mirror. The Burleys had been at Malibu for the holidays, so seeing Rob was a surprise to Christine. She was excited.

She showed up in the family’s yard and waved at the Burleys.

“Hi, Mrs. Burley!”

Smiling, the three of them walked towards Christine. Roberts’ parents greeted her with a hug, while Robert himself uttered an awkward ‘hello’. At only thirteen years of age, Christine could sense he liked her as more than a best friend, but was afraid to act on her own feelings. As in his first day at school, she still thought he was the cutest boy in class.

“Hello!”

It was her mother, at the door.

“Come in, Josephine,” she said as she gave them space to walk into the house, “Hugo, how were your holidays?”

“They were wonderful,” Robert’s father said.

With the adults gone, the teens lingered in each other's presence, not knowing what to say.  To Christine’s surprise, it was Robert who spoke first.

“Happy birthday", he said.

“Thanks.”

“I brought you something. Hang on.”

And with that he ran off to where his father’s car was parked and opened the back seat’s door. He came back running with a plastic bag full of water and two small, dark things Christine couldn’t make anything off. As Robert came closer, she noticed they were two baby sea turtles.

Her heart shrank in tenderness. “They’re beautiful!"

Robert smiled widely. “Thanks. My uncle gave them to me.” They didn’t talk for a moment, just staring at the animals. “Can we put them in our well?”

Christine nodded, so they ran down to the Jensen’s water well, just below the yard. It had been in the Jensen family since Christine’s grandfather, a veterinarian called Keith who was fond of water animals. By the summer of 1970 and with no paperwork involved, it was property of Christine and Rob. They sealed the pact as only children can: by carving their initials onto the grey walls.

Rob leaned over the pond, and threw the turtles into the water. They instantly started swimming, which made the friends smile.

“I think I’m gonna name them…” Christine said. “Frida and... wait, are they male and female?”

“Two females.”

“Hmm. Okay. I’ll let you name the other one, Rob.”

“Christine.”

The girl was flattered. "Really?"

"Yeah,” Robert said, nodding.

They stared down at the well, watching the turtles swim one way to the other, with their little legs nearly touching each other.

“How was your summer?” Christine asked.

"Great. I love the beach,” he answered. And my new cousins were nice.” She was smiling. “We hung out ‘til late at night and my parents were okay with it. How was your summer?”

“Okay, I guess. We went to my sister’s wedding, then when we got back I went to Mr. H.’s”

“Right, I forgot. Did your parents bought you a camera yet?”

Christine made a face. “No, they say I’m too young. But Mr. H lets me practice with his camera.”

They went back to staring at the baby turtles in the well. After a while, Christine subtlety moved her hand so that it could touch Rob's, even for a second. But he pulled away, his ears turning red.

“Christine!” Her mother called from inside the house. “Rob!”

Rob was the first to run inside.

The party guests were quickly dropping by: Christine’s closest school friends and other classmates, the rest of her relatives and of course Mr. H, her neighbor and photography mentor, joined by his wife and kids. Her presents ranged from clothes to perfumes and records; but the one she loved the most came from Mr. H: a photo album. On the first page it had a note.

 _Dearest: I know your parents would get upset if I got you a camera, so I bought you this photo album first. I_ _’_ _m sure you_ _’_ _ll fill it with your talent._

Mr. Jensen had put on an Elvis Presley record he hummed to with his eyes closed. Christine came closer to him.

“Dad.”

“Hmm?”

“Can I put my record on?”

“Oh,” Mr. Jensen opened his eyes. “Don’t you like Elvis?”

“Yes, but it’s too old.”

Mr. Jensen touched his chin.

“Okay. It’s your day, honey, put whatever you like.”

Christine ran to the record player with a grin and took out a brand new album from the shelves below it. It was her sister’s birthday gift.

“What are we dancing to?” Summer said, squatting next to her.

“I don’t know, I found it at Lucy’s”, Christine said as she ripped the wrap and revealed the cover. It said “Donna Summer” in fancy letters and below it the title, “ _Love to love you baby._

Christine’s father had a stern look on his eyes. “Stealing from your sister, Christine?”

“It was in the trash.”

“Oh,” Mr. Jensen uttered and took another look at the record. “Well, it doesn’t look very appropriate, honey.”

“Come on, dad,” she begged. “It’s hip, it was released last month.”

Mr. Jensen sighed. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

“Fine, you can put it on,” he said. “But only because you’re my baby girl.”

Christine kissed her dad on the cheek. “Thank you, dad.”

She carefully took the vinyl out of the case and put it on the record player. Both girls smiled at each other as the music started, but soon widened their eyes at the female moans and groans.

“Christine!” her mother yelled from the kitchen while the kids laughed.

“Oh God,” Christine said, completely red in the face. Then she looked at Summer, who was also blushing. “Run!”

“Where?!”

“Just run!”

The girls ran past the front door and around the yard, stopping only at the well. As they caught their breaths, Christine’s mother reached them.

“Why do you have a record like that, Christine?” she asked, upset.

“It’s Lucy’s! She threw it in the trash.”

Mrs. Jensen hesitated for a while. “That box you put in the car… it contained that record?”

“Yes.”

The woman turned on her feet. “Lucy!” she called loudly.

In a minute Christine’s sister came over, dying of laughter. Out of her parents, she resembled Mr. Jensen the most, that with her black hair and small nose.

“Lucy!” Mrs. Jensen scolded her.

“Aw, mom, it’s funny!” Lucy said, then turned to her younger sister. “You found the record in the trash, didn’t you?”

Christine looked at Lucy with anger. Funky bass lines came from inside the house. “Stop laughing, it’s your fault!”

“Oh, come on. When you get older you’re gonna laugh at this like—“

“I hate you!”

And Christine stormed off. Her mother and Summer followed her, founding her sitting next to the well and in tears.

“Christine…” Summer approached her carefully. I brought the Bowie record, it’s gonna be alright…”

“That’s thoughtful, Summer,” Mrs. Jensen said. She touched her daughter’s shoulder. “Come on, honey, go back inside.”

“Okay…” Christine sniffed. “In a minute.”

“Alright…” her mother said stood up. “I’m going to put something else on in the meantime. I’ll wait for you girls!”

“Yes, Mrs. Jensen.”

Christine waited until her mother and sister were gone to say, “Now Rob’s gonna think I’m a w-h-o-r-e.”

Summer hummed and squinted in the direction of the Jensen’s living room. “He’s not at the party, Christine.”

“What?” she turned around as well. Robert was coming off the second story.

“You’re lucky,” Summer commented, making both girls smile.

Christine wiped her teary face and stood up. “Let’s go.”

 

The twelve and thirteen year olds listened and bobbed their heads to _Young Americans_. Two boys asked girls to dance, and by the second track the living room was almost full.

“Hey, Christine,” Robert said, next to her. “C-Can I ask you something?”

Christine’s heart was accelerating. _It_ _’_ _s happening_ , she thought.

“Sure.”

“Would you, uh… would you---“

He was interrupted by another boy’s shoving. It was Kevin, taller and, by popular opinion, the most handsome boy of the seventh grade.

“Would you dance with me, Christine?” he said, looking straight at her eyes and without stuttering.

“Uh, okay,” she said, without much thinking.

But when he took her to the dance floor she looked at Robert with regret. She didn’t even know why she had agreed to dance with Kevin, she only knew that she didn’t want Robert to know about her feelings yet. She got the idea from one of the teen magazines she always read.

“Happy birthday,” Kevin said over the music. Christine’s eyebrows arched; Kevin usually didn’t say such nice things.

“Thanks.”

_They pulled in just behind the bridge_

_He lays her down, he frowns_

_"Gee my life's a funny thing, am I_

_still too young?"_

Kevin smirked. “Who do you like?” he asked. _Of course_ , Christine thought, and took a quick glance at Robert, who stood with his back at the wall, tapping his foot to the music and looking down. “From our class,” Kevin added.

“No one,” she said quickly, looking the other way.

“Liar! You do like someone.”

“I don’t.”

“C'mon, tell me… Is it me?”

“You think every girl loves you, don’t you?”

“Hah,” he smirked.

She was starting to feel uncomfortable, but she didn’t ditch Kevin out of fear of just running into Robert’s arms and kiss him in front of all those people. _And what if he doesn_ _’_ _t like me that much anyway? What if he_ _’_ _s just_ _…_ _lying?_

_Mom would freak out for sure if we started dating._

She and Kevin kept dancing around the living room, occasionally bumping into other kids. He lead, holding her waist the way grown ups did. His mouth was suddenly in her ear.

“Have you ever kissed a boy on the lips?”

“No…” Christine was confused. She always hated Kevin, but her young hormones were betraying her. And he was the most good-looking boy of the seventh grade. “Have you?”

“Lots of times,” Kevin replied. “I can teach you.”

Christine had lost sight of Robert when she and Kevin sat down, facing each other, on her sister’s empty bed. She was breathless and worried her parents might barge in. Kevin took her hand.

“Now, close your eyes,” he said.

“Okay,” Christine did as she was told.

“When you feel my lips open your mouth, okay? “

“Okay.”

She waited, even more nervous. When Kevin’s lips finally pressed against hers, she let him in and something sparked in her body, reaching even the tips of her fingers. _This is what mom warned me about_ …

 

What happened inside Lucy’s old room was soon the biggest piece of gossip in class. Christine got scolded by her mother (this is not how a little girl behaves! “I’m not little, mom!”) but she was mostly concerned about Robert. He hadn’t spoken her since the party.

Finally, one day he waited for her outside gym class.

“Christine,” he called, grabbing her arm gently. He looked sad and serious.

“Rob… what’s wrong?”

“I’m just worried… about the rumors and stuff… “

“Oh… Well, I don’t like Kevin.” She smiled in embarrassment. “This whole thing got out of hand.”

“But if you don’t like him, why did you kiss him?”

“I don’t know, it was stupid…” _Can you forgive me?_ “Are you mad?”

“Only because I care about you. I wouldn’t want someone like Kevin to be with you- as a friend, I mean. I care as a friend.”

“Thanks.”

She smiled at Rob, who had blushed a little. _Why doesn_ _’_ _t he say anything?_ Now it was time for her to grab his arm.

"C'mon, we're late for class," she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the longest chapter of part 2. I had a lot of fun writing this one.
> 
> Second song is Bowie's "Young Americans".


	8. Chapter 8

**1976** **–** **San Diego, CA**

The walls on Christine’s room were of a light shade of pink, plastered with posters of Marc Bolan, KISS, Donna Summer, Cheap Trick and the Bee Gees. The nightstand had make up sets, a hair drier and a mirror, and the window, half opened, led to the suburban streets. Christine and Summer sat with their legs crossed on the bed, talking over the loud _Yesterday feels like running away_ verse coming from the record player.

“Oh my God, Christine…” Summer said. “How was it?”

“Good… A little slobbery, but whatever.” Christine smiled and Summer started chuckling.

“It was probably his first kiss.”

“Yeah, he told me. But he was so happy, when we got on the bus, you should have see him…”

“Aww…” Summer said at the same time and the two girls giggled.

“Then he told me he’s liked me for years and I said me too and we kissed again.”

Summer took her friend’s hands and smiled excitedly. “You guys make a sweet couple.”

“Thanks. Oh, we’re going to the KISS show next Sunday.”

“The KISS show? And your parents are okay with it?”

“They’ll never know,” Christine smirked, “I’m sneaking out.”

“Christine!”

“Yeah,” Christine glanced at the window, “that window is the best thing that’s happened in my life.”

Summer took a cigarette from the package on the bed and started smoking by the window, letting the ashes fall outside.

“You want some?” she offered.

“Okay.”

“But take it easy this time,” Summer warned with a smirk.

Christine gave a drag to the cigarette, let the ashes fall outside the window and coughed loudly, the smoke coming out of her. She was relieved the music was also loud.

Summer laughed while her friend heaved. "You look like a chimney. Give me that."

The cigarette went back to Summer, who took a puff and exhaled.

“This is crazy, Christine,” she said. “How are you gonna cheat your parents?”

“Don’t worry, I have it all figured out. I’ll tell them I’m going to sleep early and then I’ll wait for them to go to bed. Rob will be outside.”

“What if they wake up before you return?”

“They won’t, they sleep like rocks… This is perfect, Summer! I’m going on a date _and_ I’ll see KISS live!”

“You haven’t even asked Rob if he likes KISS…” Summer chuckled.

“Everyone loves KISS.”

“I don’t.”

“’Cause you’re a big weirdo.”

They laughed together.

“ _Christine and Rob,_ ” Summer sang, _“_ _sitting in a tree_ \---“

“Stop it!”

“ _K-I-S-S-I_ ”

Christine brandished the pillow behind her at Summer, and the two started grinning and laughing as Summer took the pillow back and threw it at her friend.

“Honey?”

It was Christine’s mother, knocking on the door.

“Yeah?” Christine said.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, mom! We’re just pillow-fighting…”

“Alright… Just remember, Summer must go home at a reasonable hour!”

“Okay…”

The two girls looked bummed out, as the pillow rested between them.

“Hey,” Christine said, “can I keep this record for a few days? It’s so good…”

“Sure, as long as you lend me the Donna Summer one.”

“Okay, but don’t scratch it…”

The doorbell rang and Christine’s mother yelled that she would open the door.

“Who’s that?” Summer asked.

“No idea,” Christine said.

“Robert!” Mrs. Jensen greeted from the hall. “How are you?”

“He came over!” Summer said as the door closed. “That’s so sweet!”

“Christine!” the woman called.

“I’m coming!”

She mouthed "throw it out" at Summer, who threw the cigarette out the window. Then she tried to clean the ashes from her own clothes, but they seemed to be stuck there, black dots ruining her stripped skirt and red top, one of her favorite outfits.

"They know you two are together now, right?" Summer asked as they stood up.

"Of course they do,” Christine replied and went to stop the record player. “I already went through the interrogatory.”

She sprayed perfume on herself before getting out of her bedroom.

Christine saw him from the doorframe. Sitting between Christine's parents, he played with the house's glass stones. He was six inches taller than the year before and his blonde hair reached his sideburns. When he looked up at her, he beamed and she beamed back, thinking of how well he looked in a sweater and tight pants.

Summer nudge her to keep on walking. In a matter of seconds they were in the living room, the room that, to Christine, most smelled like home. It smelled like a typical California living room but also dragged the scent of whatever was going on in the kitchen.

"Sit down, girls," Christine's father said, gesturing them to sit in front of the trio. She sat in the couch and Summer remained standing

"Is something wrong?" Christine asked.

"No," her mother replied, putting her hand on Robert's back. "We just wanted to ask Rob some questions."

"Oh. Are you - are you done now?"

Mrs. Jensen gave Robert a glance before answering. He had grown about four inches since the first time he stepped foot into the house and his blonde hair now went below his neckline.

"Sure, of course," the woman said. She sniffed. “Have you been smoking, Christine?”

“No, no, it was Summer. And Summer has permission to smoke, right Summer?”

“Yeah,” Summer answered proudly.

Christine’s mother eyed Summer for a moment, then turned back to Robert.

“Well, Robert seems like a fine young man,” she stated and smile. “Always has been.”

Robert smiled in return. “Thanks, Mrs. Jensen.”

 “What do you want to do know, Rob?” Christine’s father asked him.

“I don’t know. A movie would be fine.”

"Yeah, let’s watch Carrie!” Christine suggested.

“Sounds great,” Robert added.

"I don’t know, a horror film?” Mrs. Jensen said, “Won’t you have the nightmares afterwards, Christine?”

“Mom, I’m fifteen.”

“Marianne’s parents let her watch it,” Summer added.

“They did?” Mr. Jensen said.

“Honey…” Mrs. Jensen pleaded. “Work with me…”

“Well, it can’t be that bad for youngsters…”

“Yeah, dad, please let us see it.”

Mr. Jensen looked at the three teenagers: Rob, sitting next to him, Christine next to her new boyfriend and Summer standing up. “Alright, Christine you can go,” he said, “but come back at a reasonable hour.”

“Will do, dad,” Christine said and kissed her father in the cheek.

“Do you have money?” Christine’s mother said.

“Yeah, I have for me and Rob,” her daughter said.

“And I have for my ticket,” Summer added.

“Very well,” Mrs. Jensen said with some frustration in her tone. “Go.”

Once outside, Christine could hear both of them discussing parenting styles, as usual. But she smiled, got in the car and watched her friend and boyfriend hop in as well.


	9. Chapter 9

**1978** **–** **San Diego, California**

Robert was in detention, Christine sitting next to him. She had told the principal that if he was going to punish Rob then he should put her in detention as well.

"What are we gonna do now?" Rob said, leaning on his elbows, head resting on hands.

"We have to stick together. And we still have Summer and Yvonne and---"

“They don’t like me.”

“That’s not true. They like you.”

But Christine knew in her heart that it _was_ a lie, at least partially. Summer had grown out of Rob over the years, the same time it took his parents to outgrow of each other. She had said he gave them the creeps. She said he wasn’t good for Christine anymore. But the thing is, Christine thought, not even Summer knew what it was like to be yelled “adopted!” or “foster kid” at every school corner. She didn’t know what it was like when other kids asked about your biological parents just to spite you.

"Who do you think spread the rumor?" Rob asked.

“I don’t know. My mom only told Mrs. Kieran and her son isn’t at our school…" Christine sighed. "I told her like a million times not to go around saying it to her friends, but she never listens…"

The ticking noise of the clock filled the room. Robert sat up. "My hand hurts," he said as he moved his bloody knuckles.

"That was a good punch," Christine smiled at him.

"Yeah… And now I'm gonna get suspended."

"Doesn't matter, at least he got what he deserved."

Christine thought of her parents, how worried they'd be that she wasn't coming home. And then, when the principal called them, they'd be disappointed to see a detention amongst an otherwise perfect disciplinary record.

"Are your parents still fighting?" she asked her boyfriend.

"Yeah…" Robert answered laconically. "I just wish they'd divorce, at this point..."

"That bad, huh?"

Rob nodded.

"Thank God we're graduating soon," Christine said. "You still don't know which college are you going to?"

"No… You?"

"I'm going straight to work," she said with pride. Robert, on the other hand, looked suddenly sad.

"I thought we’d go to the same college,” he said.

“But I never wanted to go to college, Rob.”

He looked away. She held his closed fist and opened softly with her fingers until the warmth of their touch seemed to calm him down.

But their hand holding was interrupted by the principal coming over.

"You two," he said coldly, "your parents are on the line."

They let go of each other's hands and followed the principal into a hallway, where two telephones rested on a table.

Both teens picked up.

"Mom?" Christine said.

"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry!" Mrs Jensen said with an affected voice. "I didn't know Mrs. Kieran was going to tell everybody!" Christine sighed. "How are you holding up?"

"I've been called names all day. I skipped the last class and hid in the bathroom. Why did you tell her?"

"She's my friend, sweetie. We were talking about our children and she noticed how different we are from each other and... you know what, it doesn’t matter anymore. I won’t talk to her again. When are you coming home?"

"In an hour."

"Okay. Your father will pick you up."

"Fine."

"Watch your tone, dear."

"Sorry, mom. I’m just tired. I'll wait for dad."

"Good..." The woman paused. "Your lunch is still here. See you at home, sweetie."

"See you, mom."

When Christine hung up, she saw Robert still on the phone.

"Okay…" he was saying. "It's alright, mom… I promise…. Okay… Bye…"

The couple glanced at each other.

"What did she say?" Christine asked.

"She made me promise not to hit anyone again."

"Oh."

"I lied to her. I'll punch anyone who hurts you."

"Oh, Rob…"

Christine hugged him, almost clinging to him.

"What if they punch back?" she asked with a tiny voice.

"I'm used to it," Robert replied, grazing her red hair. They broke the hug. "I love you," he said.

“I love you too.”

“You’re not going to leave me, aren’t you?”

“No… Why would you say that, Rob?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m scared… You’re the only reason I’m staying at this school. Otherwise I’d go live on my own.”

Christine frowned and pursed her lips. “Are you sure? I fear for you.”

“I’m gonna be alright. My mom says she’ll give me some money. I just can’t stand all the fighting at home anymore.”

Just when they were holding hands again, the principal returned.

“Have you talked to your mothers?”

“Yes,” the couple replied at the same time.

“Good, good…” the principal adjusted his tie. “Jensen, you’re free to go. And Burley, I’m giving you one week of suspension.”

“One week?!” Christine complained.

“But he started it…” Robert continued.

“I. Don’t. Care. Who started it. Did you know you could have seriously damaged his liver, boy?”

“He’s faking it! I didn’t---“

But the principal put his index finger at the center of his closed lips. “One week, Burley. Relax, go home, think about what you’ve done. I promise you’ll return differently at the school.” He turned to Christine. “You can go now.”

“I’m waiting for my dad. He’s picking me up.”

“Fine. Wait outside, please.”

Christine didn’t have the energy to complain any longer, so she went to the school’s hall and sat in one of the chairs. He saw the principal closing the detention room’s door.


	10. Chapter 10

**1980, San Diego – California**

“He’s late,” Christine said and bit her nails.

“Don’t do that, honey, your lipstick will wear off,” Christine’s mother said. She took a step forward to adjust her daughter’s hairdo and smiled. “You look so beautiful, Christine. And don’t worry about Rob. He’ll come.”

Careful not to wrinkle her white dress, the young girl sat on the sofa and jiggled her foot. The diamond incrusted on her left shoe was starting to hurt her in a way she couldn’t ignore it anymore, so once in a while she would check if she had any wounds in her feet, then go on jiggling. She thought about how long he had been anticipating prom, her dress and make up, dancing to Grease songs as she had rehearsed with Summer and Yvonne. 

She looked up at her father, coming down from the stairs.

“Are you excited, honey?” he asked.

“Rob isn’t coming. He said he’d come at nine.”

“Don’t worry,” the man stood on the landing now. “He has never stood you up, hasn’t he?”

“No.”

Just when her father was about to speak again, a car’s lights parked themselves in front of the Jensens. Christine looked out the window and spotted Summer, Eddie and Robert getting out of Summer’s old car. A year before Christine would have expected a limousine on her prom night, but now she was happy with it.

“See?” her mother said. “I told you he’d come.”

She combed her daughter’s wavy, long hair one last time and hugged her.

“Have fun, honey.”

“I will,” Christine said with a smile and opened the door. Her father followed her quickly.

“Do you want me to pick you up?” he asked.

“It’s okay, we’re all coming back in Summer’s car.”

“Ah, alright.”

Summer, Robert and Eddie were waving at the Jensens as Christine got out.

 

The school welcomed them in with a giant banner that said: “Class of 1978 presents: The Fifties” and everyone entered the hall dressed up accordingly, that is, in what probably were their parents or grandparents’ outfits. Eddie, a boy from the basketball team that was a candidate for prom king, escorted her girlfriend Summer out of the car by the hand, and Robert did the same with Christine.

Once inside the lounge, they found that the decorations were similar to those of the Grease movie. There were even vintage video cameras and cake. The only thing missing, Christine thought, was a real live band (they had opted for a jukebox instead).

“This is so beautiful!” she exclaimed.

“Right?” Summer seconded. “Hey, there’s Marianne!” she waved to a girl next to the stage, who was holding hands with a boy.

They met in the middle of the lounge and greeted each other; then Christine asked about their other friends.

“Well, Patty’s still at home,” Marianne said. “We’re here too early, Christine.”

“No,” Christine said with a smirk, “it’s everyone else that’s late.”

“I can’t believe they didn’t hire a band,” Eddie commented.

“Yeah,” Marianne seconded. “This sucks.”

Christine suddenly got the restless legs. “I wanna dance,” she said, looking around. “Don’t you guys wanna dance?”

“You got coins?” Marianne’s boyfriend pointed out at the beginning of the room, next to the curtains.

“A lot,” Christine said excitedly.

Holding hands with Robert, she headed for the jukebox and started flipping the pages of records. Ritchie Valens, Neil Sedaka, Buddy Holy, Paul Anka…

“What about _Diana_?” she said to her boyfriend.

“I like it.”

Christine took out a quarter from her purse, put it on the machine and it wasn’t long before Paul Anka’s voice filled the room.

_I'm so young and you're so old_

_This, my darling I've been told_

_I don't care just what they say_

_'Cause forever I will pray_

The three couples started dancing as other students arrived. Christine was surprised because Robert was smiling.

“What are you so smiley about?”

“I’m just happy that you’re with me. I don’t care if my folks are going at it. Not tonight.”

They looked into each other’s eyes as they moved around.

“That’s sweet,” Christine said. “I’m happy we’re together too.”

“Do you think I’m…?”

“Do I think you’re what?”

“Nothing.”

Robert had hung his head in embarrassment and now looked at Christine’s white heels as they danced.

“No, what is it?” Christine insisted.

“… Why aren’t you with Kevin or those prom king guys? I’m nothing compared to them…”

“Baby, don’t say that! We’ve been through this, I like _you_ and that’s why I choose you.”

“Sure?” Robert looked up.

“Of course.”

They hugged briefly, after which Robert excused himself to the bathroom and Christine was left alone, wandering around the place. The band had already arrived, in light blue suits, and were testing the sound as  _Those Magic Changes_ played on the jukebox.

She decided to greet the band members, since she had nothing else to do; but in her way stood Kevin, tall, heavy and with a suit that barely fitted him and revealed his football-team muscles. Christine could tell he had dressed like that on purpose.

“What’s up, foster girl?” he said with a smirk.

“Get lost,” Christine said firmly and tried to dodge him, but Kevin was quicker and put a hand on her shoulder.

“C’mon, dance with me. Leave that loser.”

“When hell freezes over,” Christine folded her arms. “By the way, didn’t you have enough with one punch?”

“That? You think Burley can beat me? I let him think that he could.”

“Leave her alone.”

It was Eddie, suddenly standing next to Christine.

“Rob might not beat you up,” he continued, “but I will if you get any closer to her.”

Kevin raised his palms. “Fine, whatever,” he said and left.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked Christine.

“Yeah, he’s just annoying. Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem. Where the hell is Rob, anyway?”

“He’s in the bath--- oh, he’s coming back. There. You see him?”

“Yeah…” he looked over her shoulder. “And there’s more people at the jukebox.” He turned to where Summer was dancing, next to Marianne and the other boy. “I leave you here. Have fun!”

“You too!” Christine yelled.

Robert walked over, hunched and shy as when he was a little kid, until he reached his girlfriend.

“What was Eddie doing with you?” he asked.

“He was defending me from Kevin,” she answered, then noticed something in his eyes. “Rob… you don’t think…?”

“It’s hard not to. You’re so beautiful.”

“Well, thank you… but you have to trust me.”

“I do. I trust you,” he looked down. “Sorry.”

_You ain’t nothing but a hound dog_ , [the band suddenly played, startling everyone else]

_Cryin’ all the time_

“Let’s dance!” Christine yelled, smiling, and took her boyfriend by the hand.

_I guess this is happiness_ , she thought as Robert led her around the dancefloor with a hand on her waist and the other on her hand. He had learned how to dance to do-woop, something she found adorable. Not even Kevin and kids like him could ruin that moment, not even the diamond hurting her foot could wipe the smile off her face.

Five songs later, the couple had gathered around the eggnog table to drink and rest. Summer asked Christine how she was liking prom so far.

“It’s great!” she replied.

“What song do you want?” Summer said and picked up a piece of paper from the table. “We’re writing them here so Eddie can pick them.”

“Oh, nice! I like Runaway.”

“ _My little runaway_ …”

“Yes, that one!”

“But who sings it?”

Christine clicked her fingers as she tried to remember.

“Shanon-something,” she said. “Surely Eddie knows!”

“Ok, I’ll ask him,” Summer took the paper and walked towards her boyfriend.

With a clear view, Christi ne noticed that there were police’s lights outside the school. Mrs. Johnson, the school principal, talked to a policeman, her face showing concern.

“What’s going on?” Rob asked, next to her.

“No idea…”

In that moment, the principal spotted Rob and gestured him to leave the lounge. The couple quickly walked, hand by hand, out into the fresh night. The police car was parked next to the students’ and parents’ cars and two cops leaned on it.

“Burley,” the principal said and approached him. She took his hands in hers. “I’m really sorry, but your mother has been stabbed. She’s dead.”

“What?” Robert and Christine muttered at the same time.

“I’m afraid so,” Mrs. Johnson continued. “The police found her. It was… it was your father who did it, Robert. He just turned himself in. I’m really sorry.”

Robert looked down as he breathed heavily. Tears were pouring from his eyes. “Mom,” he muttered. Christine looked at him, concerned.

A couple of minutes passed in which they were all in silence. Then Robert asked if he could see the body.

“Sure, kid,” one of the cops said. “We were going to take you for interrogation anyway.”

“Interrogation?” the principal said.

“Yes, I’m afraid we need to know about his parents’ relationship.”

The other cop opened the back door of the car and told Robert to get inside, which he did.

“Can I go too?” Christine asked.

“Afraid not,” the second cop asked. “This is between family members.”

“But I’m with him.”

“Miss,” the first cop said. “It’s better if you don’t witness the scene, trust me.”

He got in the driver’s seat, closed the door and the car left the school. She looked at him as it disappeared between the street.

“What will happen to Rob now?” she asked the principal.

“Is he of legal age?”

“He turns eighteen in two weeks.”

“Then he will be placed in another family until he does.”

Christine sat on the cold floor, not worrying about her dress. She cried silently as the police took Rob.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**1983 – San Diego, California**

Someone rang Christine’s doorbell and she got up to open the door. Under the sunlight, Rob’s hair seemed a brighter blonde. He drew out a big smile.

“Rob! How are you? How did you—“

“I saw one of your photos at a magazine. Then I looked up the address and your boss said you live here.”

Christine smiled.

“Come in,” she said.

Once inside, Rob contemplated Christine’s paintings, some her own and some famous.

“You got a nice apartment.”

“Thanks. Wanna sit down?”

Robert sat in the largest couch and Christine did the same, next to him. She gazed at her ex boyfriend, noticing he didn’t look embarrassed or depressed anymore. His blonde hair was combed in a mullet and he had gained a few pounds.

“You look better than last time,” she pointed out, to which he nodded.

“My aunt got me a job at a bank,” he said. “And I’ve been going to therapy.”

“Really? How’s that working out?”

“I’m feeling better.” Rob leaned on his back as the two looked at each other. “Are you seeing anybody? I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, it’s fine. I-I dumped him last night, actually.”

“Oh... what was he like?”

She winced. “I really don't wanna talk about him now, Rob.”

“Sorry.”

Christine could tell he wanted to ask her out, but he remained silent, cracking his knuckles. She got up and put on a record, _Waterloo_ by ABBA. When she turned around, Rob was staring at her.

“You still look beautiful,” he said, to which he gazed at him and sat down again.

“You’ve always meant a lot to me, Rob.”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend again?”

She chuckled shyly. “A little sudden, don't you think?”

Rob went back to his awkward self with an awkard smile. “Well, yeah...” he looked down and up to her again. “We could start dating.”

Christine gazed at him, realizing she couldn't say no to those eyes.

“Okay, let's go out,” she said.

 

**February, 1984 – San Diego, CA**

Rob was losing his mind. He wasn’t bathing, going to work or performing any adult routine. Enmaciated, he kept looking out the window, as if he expected answers from the air.

“Baby?” Christine said tentatively. “You need to eat. I’m worried about you.”

Rob stared blankly at the wall.

“I don’t know why they’re making me go…” he said. “It’s been so long, and I just wanted to forget about it.”

“But you have to testify, Rob,” Christine said. “Your mom would have wanted it.”

“… I know. She took care of me way more than Hugo did, you know? She loved me… Now I have nothing.”

Christine kept quiet. She knew it was pointless, when he was having one of his flashbacks. She got up, plate in hand, and walked towards the exit of Rob’s room.

She left the plate on the table and looked at the window, wishing she could turn back time. Everything was going so well, Robert had finally found a family that cared about him and he had opened up to people; and then… that happened. So much brutality, so much hatred and blood that came back to haunt Rob after many years. Christine realized she couldn’t cope with it. She feared for his sanity. Something was off about him, like a switch you aren’t supposed to pull down and a hand near it always threatening to do so.

“I’m hungry,” Rob’s voice came from far away.

Christine came back with the plate, kneeling before Rob, who took the chicken leg with one hand and ate a bit.

“Are you still going out with Eddie tomorrow?” he asked, not looking at Christine.

“Yes. And with Summer and Yvonne. Will you let it go, please?”

“I just don’t want you to leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Promise?”

Christine took a deep breath before answering. She was running out of patience. “ _Yes_.”

“I’m not good enough, am I?”

She clenched her teeth. “We can’t have this conversation again…”

Neither of them said anything else. Rob sat there eating while Christine watched him. He did it slowly, by bits and pieces, and left the half-empty plate on the floor.

After a while of watching him, she got up and got her keys from a table nearby.

“Where are you going?” Rob asked her.

“For a walk,” Christine answered as he put the keys in her pocket. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Are you meeting someone?”

“Rob! Stop it! I’m going for a walk.”

The phone rang. Christine perceived _something_ in Rob’s eyes which rushed her to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Honey…” her mother’s voice said. “How are things?”

“Hang on a second, mom.”

Christine put the phone down and ran towards where the record player was. She turned the volume up and returned to the phone.

“Okay, I’m back.”

“Why is the music so loud?”

“So Rob can’t hear it.”

“Sweetie… why do you do this to him? I want to talk to him too, you know.”

“Mom, I’m… I’m tired of this. He’s jealous all the time, he---“

“He needs help, that’s what he needs. And you’re his girlfriend.”

“No, no, I’m tired. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Who are you talking to?”

It was Rob’s voice. Like a reflex, Christine hung up the phone.

“It was my mom,” she said, turning around and trying to smile. Her boyfriend was holding the plate in his hands.

“It wasn’t Eddie?”

“No, it was my mom. You can call—“

The plate missed her cheek by an inch and broke the window behind her, making her duck and end up on the floor, with her back to the counter.

“YOU’RE NOT LEAVING ME!” he snarled, teary-eyed.

“Rob, stop! You’re scaring me…”

He didn’t seem to hear her, for he walked towards the broken window and finished breaking it with his fists. Blood started trickling down from him as Christine crawled on the floor and ran to the corridor. Rob ran past her and, already crying, threw all the objects he could find at the windows, making them shatter.

“Rob!”

He ran and punched the windows over and over until Christine thought he could bleed out. Breathing quickly, she ran back to the kitchen, picked up the phone and called 911.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“It’s my boyfriend. He’s breaking all the windows in the apartment… please, send help…”

“Try to stay calm, miss… Are you away from him right now?”

“Yes.”

“Can he hear you?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Alright. Stay where you are, we’re sending a unit. What’s your address?”

With a shaky voice, Christine gave the woman her address and was told to wait five minutes. “Please, hurry,” were her final words. Even with the loud music, she could still hear the windows breaking. She sat on the floor and covered her ears.

Finally, she heard the police’s siren. The door was forced-open and a female officer found her in the kitchen, still shaking.

“Did he hurt you?” she asked Christine as she squatted and took a look at her face.

“He tried to… He threw a plate at me.”

“Only today?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not lying, aren’t you? You’re safe now, he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Alright. Don’t worry, we’re taking him away.”

“Thank you.”

The older woman helped Christine stand up and the two walked into the corridor, where a bloody Rob was being taken away by two male officers.

“She was going to leave me…” Christine heard him mutter. “She was going to leave me.”

 

It was late at night and Christine had her jacket off, for a cold breeze was coming through the broken windows. She was looking at the paintings she had hung in the corridor’s walls three years before. _The Starry Night_ , _Impression, Sunrise_ , _The Kiss_ . She ran her thumb through the first one and then went to the living room, where she took a piece of paper from her purse and wrote: _I’m leaving. Don’t be looking for me_. She put it on the table before her and got back to the corridor, where the phone was. She dialed Summer’s number.

“Summer,” she said when her friend picked up.

“Christine? Why are you calling so late?”

“I’m leaving town. I’m tired of Rob.”

“Oh my God, what did he do now?”

“Threw a plate at me. Then he broke all the windows. It was awful!”

“Jesus! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I dodged everything. And the cops took him away. But I’m leaving. Just... tell the boss I went to L.A.”

“L.A.? But you don’t have anyone there.”

“I don’t mind, I’ll sell the car or something. I’m just tired of Rob and this apartment… I need a change, Summer.”

“Oh… I get it, sweetie. But I have to ask, do you still love him?”

“I feel sorry for him… And angry that I haven’t had a life since we got back together.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Absolutely… Sorry I asked. He tried to hurt you, he doesn’t deserve your love.”

Christine’s upstairs neighbor was playing his music loudly again, but this time she really listened. A one way ticket, a change of pace / You've had enough, can't take no more.

“… Hey,” Summer said. “Promise me to write as soon as you get there.”

“I promise.”

“Take care of yourself, alright?”

“I will, Summer. I’ll be fine, don't worry. I have to go now.”

“Okay… Bye, Christine.”

“Bye.”

Her upstairs neighbor was listening to rock music again, but this time Christine really listened.}

_But no one seems to care_

_A one way ticket_

_A change of pace_

_You've had enough_

_Can't take no more_

 

_Breaking the chains around you_

_Nobody else can bind you_

_Take a good look around you_

_Now you're breaking the chains_

She glanced around one last time: everything was already packed in her luggage and put in her car’s trunk, so she left the house and didn’t look back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of part 2. If you like the story so far, please upvote it on Wattpad :). Over there each part has its theme song, so it's pretty cool.


	12. Part 3: Boys on Film

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 is here! This is the meatest part of the story and the most fun to write (so I hope you find it fun too)

**Part 3: Boys on Film**

 

**September, 1985 – Los Angeles**

“Loud & Proud Magazine,” Christine answered on the desk phone. She twirled a lock of her hair while looking down at her photos of the day.

“Hey, it’s me, Steve,” a male voice came out from the other side. It was her boss. “You have a session in two hours, booth four.”

“No outdoors?”

“No. Oh, and Phil is coming with you, ‘cause we’re doing an interview too.”

“Okay. Which band is it?”

“Lobotomy. You remember them?”

His soft lips.

“ _Hi, Clyde!_ ”

His smile.

“ _I really like you.”_

“Christine.”

“What. Oh, yeah, I remember them.”

“Great, 'cause...”

An entire year had passed since Christine and Dan last saw each other, but to her it felt merely like days. She had tried to go on dates with other guys, which always resulted in her comparing them to Dan in one way or another. Tried as she might, she couldn't forever. And Alice was always by her shoulder, telling her the band would come back for their second album.

“... so it's really important that you'll be there,” Steve was saying, “even if it's just a few shots, alright?”

“Okay. Be where?”

“The _fes_ tival, Christine. Jesus, where's your head today? Are you in love?” The head of the magazine teased.

“I'm so not!” Christine said, louder than usual. “I'm just... I haven't slept well. Roxy night, you know...”

“Right, right... so you'll be at the festival?”

“Sure. Where is it?”

“Kesha's. Remember, it's Lobotomy, Metallica and Insect. Everyone’s gonna be there, and it’s gonna be huge publicity for us. So don’t you miss it.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay, what time is your shoot?”

“Four.”

“Yes, thank God,” they chuckled. “See you in booth four.”

“See ya.”

Christine hung up the phone, put her hands behind her head and started turning around in her seat. She whistled to the tune of the new Lobotomy single but stopped because she couldn’t concentrate with W.A.S.P.’s _The Last Command_ filling the room.

“I can see you’re as excited as I am,” Phillip noted, a few cubicles before her. “That song is a killer, a good choice for a single. And Leo is more insane than usual…”

“Right? Let me know when you have a copy.”

“I will,” Phillip said and did a military salute. “You can count on me!”

Everyone at the headquarters knew Phillip had always wanted to be a drummer, but had to settle for journalism when he couldn’t sustain himself financially. Christine always thought that a heavy metal drummer with glasses would have looked odd.

“Hey, Phips,” she spoke again.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s going first, you or me?”

“Steve wants us to do the shooting and interview simultaneously. He thinks it’s more spontaneous this way.”

“Oh, okay.”

Alice, next to Christine, smirked and said in a quiet tone:

“Gonna make your move?”

“I’m the girl, I’m not supposed to make a move!” Christine whispered back. Alice held back her laughter.

“Didn’t you sort of kissed him last time?”

“What about the kiss--?” Alice was interrupted by Christine's frantical hand movements.

“Sshh! You want Phips to hear?”

The girls watched him for a moment. He seemed too concentrated on his next article.

“Go for it, Christine,” Alice said. “If He doesn’t have a girlfriend, I mean.”

Christine grimaced. She hadn't considered that.

“What if he has?” she asked

“I doubt it”, Alice said. There are no girls at thrash shows. You’re lucky.”

Phillip spoke up, without turning around from the computer he was typing into.

“What are you two gals whispering about?”

“Nothing,” Christine answered innocently.

“Who says ‘gals’?” Alice teased him. “Is this the fifties?”

Phillip did turn around this time. “Not my fault some of us have colorful vocabularies,” he teased back with a grin.

“Colorful!” Alice repeated. “Jesus Christ…”

Christine watched the dialogue with an amused smile. She sat and sorted the photos on the desk.

“Hey, I’m your editor for a reason,” Phillip continued.

Alice faked a gasp. “You’re not better than me!”

“Better than I.”

“Goddamnit...”

Phillip and Alice only stopped chatting when Christine stopped _The Last Command_ and saved it in its sleeve.

“Come on!” Phillip protested.

“I can't believe you guys listen to that... that freak,” Christine said. The others smiled.

“What do you got then?” Alice asked her.

“Dio,” Christine waved _Sacred Heart_ at her friends. Then she smiled in satisfaction and put it on the record player.

 

*********

 

Lobotomy was already there when Christine and Phillip opened the door to studio number 4. They were all talking among themselves.

“Christine!” Richie said in surprise, making his bandmates turn their heads. He smiled.

“Hi, Richie! Hi, guys!” Christine waved. “How’s things?”

“Pretty damn good,” Richie said. “Did you listen to our new album?"

“Yeah, it’s awesome.”

The rest of the band had waved or nodded towards Christine, except for Dan. He stood there smiling widely and staring at her. She approached him until they were fairly close.

“Christine…” he said, amazed. His content eyes twinkled.

“Hi, Danny...” Christine said breathlessly.

He contemplated her, focusing on her new clothes.

"…You look good on leather,” he complimented her.

Christine looked down on her black jacket and jeans.

"Thanks.”

“Is it borrowed this time?”

“No, all mine," Christine replied with pride.

Phillip interrupted their gazing with a stuck hand.

"Philip Rivers, journalist."

He shook hands with Dan.

"Rivers…" Dan said and squinted. “You wrote the article last year!”

"Effectively."

"Thanks, man!"

"My pleasure."

Christine watched and listened impatiently as they dove into a conversation about the new album, a conversation full of the technical terms Phillip loved and used so much; there was also praise and the consequent flattery.

"Phips," she said, unable to wait any longer. "Leo is alone over there. Don't you wanna talk about drumming?"

“Why? Am I interrupting something?”

“This may be your _last_ chance to talk to Leo alone!”

“Alright, I'm leaving."

"And Dan is my  _friend_..."

The journalist chuckled lightly. "Never said he wasn't..."

He spotted Leo, waved at him and left.

"I was liking him!" Dan joked.

“He was interrupting us,” Christine said, her teasing smile growing.

“Interrupting what, exactly?” Dan teased back.

In that moment Steve called them out to start the interview/photoshoot, so they all headed towards one of the booths, which was already lightened up. Each band member sat on a white cubicle, Phillip chose the one couch in front of them and Christine took out her make up set from the white closet.

“Ok, let’s get to work,” Jeff said and rubbed his hands. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Bye Jeff,” the band members said at distinct time.

“Would you like a drink?” Phillip offered.

“Yeah,” Leo grinned, followed by the others.

Christine, still near the closet, announced that there were only two beer bottles.

“It’s okay,” Richie told her, “bring ‘em here.”

Mike, on the left end, started with one beer, drinking in several gulps before burping and giving the bottle to Richie.

“Love your single, guys,” Phillip said. “Seriously.”

“Thanks,” Richie said. “Me and Mike wrote it.”

“So it’s just like your first record, where you two composed nearly all the songs?”

“No, this time we let Danny write a couple of more,” Richie said before chuckling and looking at the singer. “They’re great songs, we wouldn’t put something on our records that wasn’t great, ya know?”

“Of course,” Phillip said. “So, for how long has Lobotomy existed?” Phillip was writing in his notebook now.

“As Lobotomy, 1984. Before that we played punk covers.”

While the interview went on, Christine stood before Mike with her make-up set.

“Oh, no—“ Mike started protesting.

“This just means we’re growing as a magazine,” Christine said and smiled. “You guys have to look nice this time.” She started applying make-up on Mike’s cheeks.

“Danny doesn’t need it, then?” Leo said.

“Shut up!” Dan said.

During the session, in one of the booths, they couldn’t help but exchange glances and smiles. After more than half an hour Christine was glad everyone was talking amongst themselves, leaving Dan alone on the couch.

"So, routine question: Which are your biggest influences?"

"Mötorhead," every musician except Mike answered at once. They smiled.

"AC/DC, Iron Maiden…" Richie continued.

"Stiff Little Fingers..." Leo completed.

"Yeah, we pretty much like the same stuff," Richie spoke again.

Phillip wrote on his notepad and called for Mike. "What about you?" he asked him.

"Eh…" The guitarist mumbled and gobbled the beer.

"He doesn't talk to the press," Richie excused him.

"Why not?"

"'Cause he's got a stick up his ass," Dan said. Mike threw a beer jet at the singer's face, spreading a contagious laughter among everyone else. "What was that?!" the brown-haired boy protested, but Mike kept on laughing.

"We got towels in the bathroom," Christine offered.

"Thanks," Dan said. Rubbed his wet eyes, he got up and walked towards Christine. "Where, exactly?"

"The main room," Christine pointed behind her. "It's at the back."

She had to make an effort to not following him, focusing only on the interview.

"…lyrics are less political in the new album," Phillip was saying. "Why do you think that is?"

"Well," Richie started answering, "we didn't want to write about--"

"There's no towel here!" Dan yelled.

Richie and Leo held back their laughter.

"I'll get that," Christine said quickly and left the room as Richie resumed his answer.

Alice was asleep, half her body resting on her back and next to an old computer. Christine didn't try to wake her up, walking towards the bathroom, where Dan grinned with a towel in one hand. He had already dry his face.

"Danny, what…?"

But he was quicker, dropping the towel and approaching her until his hands were on her hips. He leaned in for a kiss.

"No, Danny, stop," Christine interrupted him, pushing the wet hands away.

"Why?" Dan breathed into her.

"I could get fired."

"There's no one here. No one awake."

"Steve could come back…" Christine said and Dan gave her a look. "He could!"

But she ended up laughing. Something about his eyes, she thought.

"Alright," Dan said, "Let's go back."

"This won't look suspicious at all," Christine said.

When she push the booth's door, Richie gave her a meaningful look, which made her glad it was Leo the one talking. Meanwhile, Dan sat on the same spot and shook his head like a puppy.

"This was in Brooklyn?" Phillip asked.

"Yeah, we had a fucking blast," Leo said.

"Great. Are you opening for other bands on the upcoming tour?"

"Opening and headlining, depending on the show," Richie said. "But we're excited either way."

"Do you love touring more than recording?" Phillip said as Christine took a few photos.

The band exchanged complicit looks.

"Richie does," Dan said. "I love both."

"Yeah, me too," Leo said.

"It's on the road that you understand what Lobotomy is about," Richie said. "There's this energy between all of us and we have a lot of fun playing live."

"Do you know each other since you were little?"

"Me and Mike, yeah. I don't know about Dan and Leo."

"I know Danny from Brooklyn," Leo said. He was smoking again. "We played in the same bands."

Half an hour later, Phillip was having beers with the guys while Christine saved her tools in the bag. She could see half of Danny's face and gave him a meaningful look from the right corner of the room. When he split from the group, she held the door opened until she took him by the hand.

They ran until they reached the last booth, which from the street was visible. Christine pulled Dan inside and he locked the door.

She grabbed him by the neck, him by the waist and they started kissing, gasping into each other’s lips. In the urgency of the moment and the heat between their bodies, both hearts beat fast. Christine could smell and taste Dan's cigarettes and beer, while Dan was bathed by Christine's morning perfume. A few minutes passed, they couldn’t tell how many, and the kiss slowed down until they pulled apart.

They now stared at each other, chuckling. Dan had sat on a chair, taking Christine into his lap.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked.

Christine grinned and kissed him again. "Of course I will!"

Dan smiled as well (Christine thought it was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen on a guy) and breathed in relief.

It amused her.

"Were you doubting it?" She asked.

"I don't know… maybe you had met someone."

"I meet a lot of guys, Danny. But you're hard to forget."

"I am?" he looked up in hope. She nodded and he brushed her hair as a response. "You're hard to forget too. I couldn't stop thinking about you this whole time."

Christine held Dan's hand. She couldn't believe she was finally his.

"I'm gonna take you on a proper date this time," he said.

"Where?"

"I don't know yet." He looked down and chuckled while he held her hand. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Well, the Rick Springfield concert is this Saturday..."

"What?" Dan was dumbfounded.

She burst into giggles. "I was kidding! You should have seen your face!"

Someone opened the door. Christine quickly got off Dan but breathed in relief when she saw Alice.

"I see you guys have made some progress," Alice said and closed the door.

"Did someone saw us leave?" Christine asked, worried.

"I don't think so, they're too busy drinking… Aw, are you official?" she added after Dan held Christine's hand.

"Yeah," Dan said with a smile.

"Congrats!" Alice said and sat next to them. "When's the big celebration?"

"Actually, we were just---"

"Talking about places to go on dates to," Dan completed. "She joked about taking me to see Rick Springfield".

Alice snorted. "You're so cruel, Christine. That's like taking you to a Mötorhead show."

"Who's Mötorhead?" Christine said, playing with her hair. "I keep hearing about them --"

"Sacrilege!" Alice exclaimed, faking shock. She turned to Dan. "You need to teach her the good stuff, man."

"She already knows," Dan said. He had a sparkle in his eyes that Christine had never seen before. "She's got the perfect taste." He kissed her neck.

"Okay," Alice said, "this is turning too sweet for me, so I better leave."

"Wait!" Christine said as she played with Dan's long hair. "You gotta help us pick a place."

"Uh…" Alice said, smiling nervously at the couple. "I don't know, Disneyland?"

Christine and Dan seemed excited at the idea. She wiggled and his eyes and mouth widened.

"I've never been to Disney," he said.

"Never?" The two girls said in disbelief.

Dan shook his head.

"Well, then," Christine said. "It's on. And the show is at the concert hall, I can go alone."

"You sure?" Dan said.

"Yeah, it's fine."

"I thought Summer was going too," Alice said.

"No, she has work that night."

"Well…" Alice got up. "We should go before they notice anything." She looked at Dan. "You've got some lipstick there."

Dan rubbed it off his lips.

There was a knock on the door.

"Girls?" Phillip called.

"We're here!" Alice shouted, so Phillip walked in.

He blinked and widened his eyes. "Why are you hiding here?

"We were just talking," Alice said. "How about you?"

"Same, with the guys. We're having some beers. Wanna come?"

"Sure," Alice said.

As the trio exited the room, Christine and Dan glanced at each other. She made a 'zip' gesture over her closed mouth and they both smirked. Phillip turned his head, but didn’t seem to suspect a thing. They kept on walking through the hallway until they found the others, drinking or smoking as they chatted.

"Oh, there they are!" Steve exclaimed. "Have a beer!"

He tossed his beer can to Alice, who caught it without spilling a bit. As she drank, Dan whispered to his girlfriend that he had to go to his band. Christine nodded.

"Hey," Leo greeted, followed by a frown. "Did something happen?"

"Why?" Richie butted in, seeing as Mike was busy talking to their manager. "Why do you ask?"

"He has that dumb face," Leo answered quickly and turned to Dan. "Is it Christine?"

"Y-yeah..." Dan nodded, still thinking about the kiss. "We're together now."

"Whoa, way to go!" Leo said and patted Dan loudly on the back.

"Awesome!" Richie said at the same time. "You fucking Romeo…" He punched the singer in the abdomen.

"Aw! Not so loud, guys… I don’t want to get her fired."

"Oh, right," Richie said and they stopped playing around. They looked at Steve, at the other side of the room, talking to Alice and Christine.

"What's going on?" Mike was suddenly next to Richie.

"Nothing you wanna know, Mouse," Dan said proudly.

But the guitarist was sniffing something. "You smell of lipstick, Crispy."

The other three laughed.

"Are you a dog or something?" Dan said.

"We need to go, guys," their manager spoke loudly. They band looked at him. "Show starts in two hours. Are you girls coming?"

“I am," Alice said. "Christine's busy."

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Christine fastened her seatbelt and took a deep breath as she glanced around everyone else at the rollercoaster.

“Nervous?” Dan asked.

“A little.”

He smirked. “Come on, is this your first rollercoaster?”

“Yeah. Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’d never! I’m just used to this stuff. I first sneaked in when I was six.”

“And you didn’t vomit or anything?”

“Nope. I think it runs in the family. My cousins love rollercoasters too.”

The announcer spoke the last words of caution and the machine started moving forward. Christine clung to the security bars as the long line of carts went up and up; then it stopped.

“Here we go!” Dan shouted.

The carts started moving at a slow pace in the horizontal line, until they reached a peak of about four hundred feet, stopped and went down at a speed that made Christine scream and close her eyes. She didn’t feel nauseous, but felt like her stomach was suddenly in her chest. She opened her eyes and saw that they were at a steady pace again, going up. Dan took her hand.

“See? We’re still alive”, he joked. “Open your eyes, c’mon.”

Christine waited until they were at the top again and kept her eyes opened, never leaving Dan’s hand. She felt the familiar sensation in her stomach again as the carts went down at an incredible speed she could finally feel with all her senses. This time, instead of screaming in fear, she yelled a “Whoo!”

“That felt good, right?!” Dan shouted.

“Yeah”.

The circuit went on for a couple of minutes more before it stopped. Dan and Christine, on the first seats, got off and out of the attraction.

“Where do you want to go now?” Dan asked.

“Cinderella’s.”

“Alright. But after that it’s Mickey. You promised.”

“Don’t look at me like that, I always keep my promises!”

“Oh really?”

He playfully nudged their noses against each other until they kissed.

The Cinderella castle was huge in all its whiteness. It wasn’t guarded by any knight or guard, only by the titular character, a short woman with blonde hair and perfect teeth. Christine almost wanted to touch her nose to see if it was real. Instead, she gave her camera to Dan.

“Take a picture of us,” she said.

Dan nodded as Christine posed next to Cinderella. Through the lenses, Dan saw them as an odd mix of princess and pop girl. He took a few shots, his girlfriend smiling genuinely and Cinderella artificially, and said:

“Ask her if you can wear her crown for a while.”

“I don’t think she’d give it up, Danny,” Christine said, nervous and looking sideways at the princess, who still smiled as if she hadn’t hear what Dan said.

“Can she wear your crown for the photo?”

The woman bowed, without losing her smile, and gave her crown to Christine, who put it on for the photo.

They bought beverages before heading to their destination, a couple of minutes apart. Mickey was waving at the entrance of a miniature home, only tall enough for a child to fit in. Dan shook Mickey’s hand and said hello, but Mickey didn’t reply. Christine did the same and they ducked to enter the house.

“This is so cute,” Christine said.

The house had a bed and dining room and at the left corner there was a small tv that showed classic episodes of Mickey Mouse. Dan sat at the table and picked up one of the little cups, while Christine glanced at him and explored the rest of the house. Suddenly, a Minnie Mouse doll appeared and waved at them. She had Mickey and Minnie Mouse hats on the other hand, which she gave to Dan and Christine.

“Thanks,” they said as they put them on.

As they walked outside the house, Christine giggled.

“You look funny with that hat,” she said to Dan.

“Oh yeah? Well, you look…” he scratched the back of his head. “I don’t have a comeback for this.”

Dan threw an arm over Christine’s shoulder and she instantly held the hanging hand, not caring about the people that stared at them. They were walking towards nowhere in particular, forgetting for a moment about their next destination and instead looking in awe at the other attractions in their way.

They did some spins on the Mad Tea Party until they got too dizzy and walked out, holding onto each other like a pair of inebriated but smiling and chuckling. As they walked the dizziness faded away, so they stopped for ice-cream at a vendor in the middle of the road.

Sitting at the stools, they ate in silence, exchanging glances and smiles.

“Hey, lovebirds!”

A man squeezed himself next to Christine, pushing her onto Dan and making her stain his Venom t-shirt with vanilla ice cream.

“Why did you do that for?” He complained to the man.

“She was in the way!”

Dan got off his seat and clenched both hands into fits, jumping to and forth on the spot. Christine smiled as the man left with his ice-cream.

“You looked funny trying to fight,” she observed.

“What?” he put his hands on a boxing position again and rolled up his sleeves, revealing arms are thick as pencils. “Look at these muscles, look.”

After a shared chuckle, they sat again and finished their ice-creams in between candid looks. Then Dan reached for his girlfriend hand and the two headed for the parking lot.

 

 

Dan was probably, at least from what he could see, the only man among the crowd. He got so constantly stared at by the teenage and twenty-somethings that he arrived at his seat covering his face with his jacket.

Christine was amused. "Stop that!" she told him.

"They're starting at me," he said, his voice muffled.

"Now you know how I felt at your show."

As soon as Dan got his ward down, Christine kissed him on the cheek. "I like you too much", she said in his ear.

Dan's cheeks were flushing, making her chuckle. Next thing they knew, the lights went out and solitary bass picks were heard all around.

 _Jessie is a friend_ [the girls exploded into screams]

_Yeah I know he's been a good friend of mine_

_But lately something's changed, baby, how do you find_

_Jessie's got himself a girl and I wanna make her mine_

The outside of the Disney Concert Hall was full of girls. Young girls, slightly older girls, way older girls. The only guys there were some girls’ dates, like Dan, all of them dressed like regular boyfriends do. Dan began to feel peculiar, standing there with his long hair, jeans and a Lobotomy t-shirt. But Christine, intertwining her arm with his, made him feel a little better in the middle of all the stares.

Once inside the hall and with the Rick playing his opening song, Christine was in her element. Dan watched her with delight, how she sang or lip-synched to all the songs, danced to some of them, and rocked out –there was no other way to describe it- her Madonna-wannabe outfit.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” Dan told her after the sixth song.

“Thank you,” Christine said with a smile. “And now I feel bad I dragged you into this,” she laughed lightly.

Dan dismissed it with a hand gesture. “It’s alright. It isn’t as bad as I expected.”

“Danny…” Christine couldn’t stop her smile, to which Dan smirk in response. Her eyes darted towards the stage again.

The lights went dim and a ballad started, joined by the girls’ screams. Dan hugged Christine from behind, wrapping her around him, and she threw her head back so that they’d be even closer. He loved the smell of her hair, a kind of pineapple perfume, while she loved how his hands felt around her and the warmth of his skin.

_If I seem a little strange_

_It’s just a state of the heart_

_I’m waiting here for you_

_In the state I’m in_

“I sing better than that guy,” Dan said.

“Don’t test me!”

They smiled.

They didn’t change positions until Rick started playing faster songs again which prompted her to give jumps of joy as she sang alone. (Dan giving her a kiss on her neck before he rested his chin on her shoulder.)

“Oh my God, it’s _Love Somebody_!”

“That’s your favorite song?”

“Yes.”

“I thought it was _Pesticide_!”

Christine turned her head. “That one is my favorite too.”

She was given another kiss on the neck.

 

After the show was over and they were both sitting in Dan’s car, stuck in traffic, he turned sideways and smiled at Christine. He intertwined his fingers with hers.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve just got this crazy idea.”

“How crazy?”

“Not too crazy, I hope…” He turned to her. “Would you like to join the band on our upcoming tour? Traveling with us, I mean.”

“By bus?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “We don’t have much money.”

“When?”

Dan gritted his teeth. “A week from now.”

She took a deep breath. The thought of seeing Dan everyday seemed so tempting and yet…

“Yeah, it was a bad idea,” Dan chuckled.

“No, I do wanna go,” Christine said.

“What’s wrong, then?”

“I can’t leave my job. The magazine is doing so well…”

He smiled slightly, seemingly to give himself hope.

“Something will come up to fix this,” he said to her. “You’ll see.”

Suddenly, he twisted something next to him and his seat reclined, making a loud creaking noise. Christine was amused.

“I didn't know cars this old had recliners”

“They don't,” Dan said as he laid down, “Richie modified it.” He stretched himself and grunted. “Looks like we'll be here a while.”

Christine felt the sides of her seats but no matter how many devices she twisted or pulled, none of them reclined her seat. Dan sat up to help her, and as he found the right knob, she gave him a surprise kiss.

He grinned.

“What was that?” he asked.

“I like kissing you,” she replied.

As Rick Springfield's “State of the heart” played on the radio, they resumed their kissing, this time making it more gentle and calm than their previous ones. Christine got on her knees to get more comfortable, in time for than to Dan to put his hands on her waist. Some time later, she couldn't tell exactly how long, the cars behind them started honking.

“We should go to my place,” Christine suggested with a smile. They were merely inches away from each other, gazing.

“Won’t Alice be up?”

Christine shook her head. “She sleeps like a rock.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screams* I hope you liked this one as much as I do! So fangirling for these two :3.
> 
> I know I let my other works on hold for a long time but I'll get to them as soon as I can. Very slow writer right here.


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning, Christine woke up in just her underwear and opened her room’s window for fresh air. She watched the city in motion for a while before turning back to Dan, who slept on his stomach with only his underwear for clothes.

“No, Mickey, no…” he suddenly said.

“Danny?” she approached him. “Are you awake?”

“’Cause you’re my buddy, Mickey”, he kept on speaking in his sleep.

Christine smiled and gave him a kiss on the neck, catching some hair in the process, but she didn’t mind. She picked a lose t-shirt and left her bedroom.

Alice was making pancakes. She turned around with a smirk.

"Well, well, well… How was your night?"

Christine was grinning. "Great."

She went to sit down at the dinning table, unable to stop smiling. Alice put a slice of pancake on her plate and kept on cooking.

"So he's not only an incredible singer," she said, "he also great at---"

"Yeah."

She served Christine pancakes and suddenly frowned. "What's that noise?"

"He talks in his sleep," Christine informed, holding back her giggles.

"Looks like someone got bitten by the love bug…"

"Sshh, not so loud…"

Alice added three glasses of orange juice to the breakfast and sat next to Christine, fork in one hand.

While they were eating, they heard Dan yawning and the bed strings creaking. Christine stopped eating just to catch the other sounds: footsteps and Dan getting dressed.

He opened the door, wearing only his jeans. The band's tattoo standing out on his shoulder.

"Good morning, Mister Zimmerman," Alice said. "Never thought I'd have you in my humble home."

Christine giggled and Dan said thank you, flabbergasted at the flattery.

"Help yourself," Alice pointed at the empty chair.

Dan let out a long yawn, arms stretched, and walked over to the dinning table.

They each started eating. Alice turned the television on and searched the channel until she landed on MTV.

“So…” she rubbed her hands on her lap as a Madonna video aired. “How was the Doctor Drake show?”

“It was okay” Dan replied.

“What?” Alice.

“What?” Dan.

“Did you just say a Rick Springfield show was _okay_?” Alice asked, almost snorting.

“Nnnn—yeah,” Dan laughed. “I mean, I don’t get all the hate now.”

Alice laughed as well and touched Christine on the shoulder. “This one’s a keeper, girl. Don’t lose him”.

Dan blushed a bit. “Did you like the album, Al?”

“Even better than the last one. Did you write _Aftershock_?”

“That was Richie."

“Oh. Still, pretty cool. Great choice for a single."

“Thanks.”

“Do you guys have shows in LA this time?”

“Yeah, for a few weeks. Then we'll tour the entire country.”

“Nice!”

Dan and Christine exchanged smiley looks across the table, something that made Alice frown.

“What's going on with you two?”

“Nothing,” Dan smiled.

“Oh,” Christine turned to her roommate. “Please don't mention a word to the boss, Al.”

“He doesn't care, relax,” Alice said. She had finished her first pancake and started cutting up the second one.

“You sure?” Christine asked.

“Yeah, I've slept... I mean, I've been with clients before.” Alice snorted for real this time. “Oh my God, I sound like a prostitute.” Since the couple stared at her amusingly, she kept on talking. “Yeah, that happened a couple of times. No biggie.”

“Anybody famous?” Dan asked with great interesting.

“A heavy metal icon, the first one” Alice held her laughter.

“Who?”

“Oh, I don't tell other guys about it.”

“But--”

“Stop it, Danny,” Christine put her hand on top of his, on the dinning table. She giggled. "She doesn't want to tell you."

“Alright,” he said, pouting. “I'll die without knowing.”

Alice laughed, and the other two followed suit. MTV was showing the music video for Ratt's "You're in Love".

 

“Christine, I need to talk to you.”

It was Steve, sitting in his office five. According to the calendar on the wall, it was two weeks after Christine and Dan's first day. She couldn’t figure out what was going on by his boss' facial expression, it was too neutral.

“Sit.” Christine sat down in front of him. “Jeff, you know, Lobotomy’s manager, told me about the work you’ll be doing with the band in their US tour.”

“Work?” Christine was dumbfounded. What had Dan done?

“Yes, the photos you’re going to take for the tour? Focus, Christine, you’ve been with your head on the clouds lately.”

“Right, of course, the photos!" the girl lied. "Sorry. Go on.”

“Well, your work. Jeff told me all about it. And at first I was devastated I was going to lose you.”

“Well, thank you, Steve. I’m flattered.”

“No, let me finish. I _was_ devastated, but then I remembered I’m getting a new photographer here who’s doing her internship in October. I told Alice to double-shift and do your work until the new girl comes along.”

Christine stopped breathing for a moment. “You're replacing me?”

“Yes and no,” Steve replied. “This internship lasts eight months and you're going to work with the band for five months. So, that's three months you won't work here. Are you alright with that?”

Christine thought about it. Nearly losing her main job for a guy... a guy that, incidentally, drove her crazy.

“I guess I could work on my own for a while...” she thought out loud. “Might need a cheaper place to stay, though,” she made a face that quickly turned into an apologetic smile.

“Really? So you're okay with it?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Steve put his palms together. “Awesome. It's settled, then. Have fun at the tour.”

“I will.”

They were both standing up now.

“Juice it up, Christine. You could be witness to the explosion of thrash metal.”

Christine's eyebrows went up. “Are you on weed again, Steve?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, but I still believe this. You'll see, one day, thrash will be everywhere.”

“Right...” She smiled and took her purse from the chair. “I'm off to work now.”

“Bye, Jensen.”

She laughed at the use of her last name. Ironically, it happened when Steve was having the most fun with her.

“Bye, Steve.”

 

Back at home, Christine dialed the band’s apartment/dump number impatiently.

“Hello,” Dan’s voice finally answered.

“Danny!” Christine whispered and yelled at the same time. “My boss just had a talk with me. What strings did you pull?”

“Well…” Christine could her the pride in his voice. “I gave our manager an idea for a little workaround for your situation. Just a little white lie, you know.”

“Big fat lie.”

“Are you mad?”

“How could I be mad? I’m going to be on vacation for five months! Thanks, baby.”

“Don't thank me,” Dan said tenderly. “I only---”

“Shush...” they both chuckled into the phone. “I can't wait to see you everyday.”

“Me too, babe, me too.”

There were loud voices on Dan's end.

“I've got to go,” he said. “Don't forget, we take off on Friday, 4 AM.”

“Okay, I won't sleep.”

He chuckled. “I'll pick you up at Alice's.”

Christine's mouth gaped as her eyebrows arched. “Really? How come? Am I so important for the band?”

“Haha... No, what happened was... Nevermind, you'll see. Just wait for us at 4 AM.”

“I will, darling.”

“I'll be there, darling.”

They were each in hysterics when they had to hung up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to the story's playlist! https://open.spotify.com/user/shitandlobster/playlist/3HGE6V1DcTP8RzPFVHcafL?si=SM6yYmZ5QLG0VwrEqsGRMg
> 
> Warning: It contains spoilers ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to add a scene to chapter 15, so I'm re-posting it. Sorry to my ghost readers, lol. Anyway, to compensate, I'm adding chapter 16 tonight as well.

**October, 1985 - Los Angeles**

Christine looked at the bus parked in front of the block of apartments. It was grey and cyan and had the word "Lobotomy" on the right side, on white spray paint. The driver was a wide, blond man with greasy skin and hair. He raised a hand to Christine as a way of greeting. She could see, through the dusty windows, Richie and Leo smiling at her.

The door opened and Dan came into view, grinning as his brown eyes twinkled.

"Come in," he gestured with one hand.

She took a few steps forward and followed Dan inside the bus.

The ragged seats were also blue and the tapestry on the walls reminded Christine of  _Animalize_ , one of Kiss' albums. Richie, Mike and Leo sat on the corridor; Richie with a beer bottle in his hands and Mike and Leo with full and half-full glasses.

"Welcome to the 85-86 Lobotomy tour," Dan said, next to Christine, who put her suitcase on the shelf above her. "That's our crew," his head pointed at the end of the bus, where a group of men in their twenties and thirties sat.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Have a beer with us," Richie told her as he raised the bottle.

She sat next to Leo. Richie handed her a new glass, where he poured beer into. After Dan had sat next to his girlfriend, the bassist did the same for him.

Richie cleared his throat. "Alright, let's make our toast."

They all clanked their glasses against each other's and Richie spoke again:

"To a great tour."

"To a great tour," the others repeated and drank a little.

"And to Leo not plugging the toilet this time," Richie added with a chuckle and had some of his own beer.

"Don't worry, Richie,” Leo said, “this tour I'll do it outside like a fucking dog. But you'll have to come with me to cover my shit with soil or something.”

“Ahh,” Christine grimaced.

“Leo,” Dan warned.

“He's a pig,” Richie said to Christine, bursting into laughter, “don't mind him.”

Mike seemed to be the least amused by the joke. He hardly smiled and kept on drinking.

Leo raised his glass again. "To Richie not passing out on his own piss anymore."

Richie laughed, grabbed the beer bottle by its spout and sprayed some at Leo, who tried to defend himself with his hands. Partially wet, the drummer opened his mouth but Mike interrupted. "Can we rehearse the song already?"

"Hang on, man," Richie told him. "I still have one more toast." He looked at everyone else and raised his glass. "To Christine, our new companion for this tour."

"To Christine," the guys said and clanked their glasses together.

"Thanks, guys."

They stayed there drinking in silence for a while, after which Mike spoke:

"Alright, the song."

“A capella?” Christine asked.

"That's the beauty of it,” Dan replied.

Mike counted down from three to one and the band started whistling a catchy melody that, to Christine, sounded like something the Boy Scouts would whistle to. Mike's dragged and hoarse voice started the first verse:

_Born in the old Big Apple_

_By Christ, it is so awful_

_You work you work until you turn_

_yourself into an asshole._

 

Christine’s eyes widened.

 

_The drummer of Lobotomy_ [Richie continued]

_He's such a dirty wanker_

_He'll clog the toilet with his shit_

_From one town to another._

 

_Friggin' in the riggin'_  [the guys sang]

_Friggin' in the riggin'_

_Friggin' in the riggin'_

_There was fuck all else to do._

 

“Alright, Crispy!” Richie shouted.

_The guitarist's name was Michael_

_He's tall as a skyscraper_

_Ten times a day Pink Floyd he plays_

_putting his band to shame_

 

Leo continued:

_The bassist's name was Richie_

_his songs were fucking cheesy_

_H_ _e drinks and drinks until his pants_

_stink of piss and big farts_

 

_Friggin' in the riggin'_ [the guys sang again]

__Friggin' in the riggin'_ _

__Friggin' in the riggin'_ _

__There was fuck all else to do_ _

 

_Friggin' in the riggin'_

_Friggin' in the riggin'_

_Friggin' in the riggin'_

_There was fuck all else to do_

 

Christine blinked, clenching her teeth into an awkward chuckle. “That's... well, not very family friendly.”

Richie grinned at her. “It's from the Sex Pistols. We rewrote it.”

“'We' is a lot of people, Richie,” Mike clarified.

“For fuck's sake,” Dan said to Mike. “Do you want a medal for writing the songs? Do you?”

“Danny...” Christine muttered.

“We're fucking around,” Mike said, smiling. “I love this guy,” he added, getting Dan's neck into a wrestling hold.

They all had a big laughed and Mike let them go.

"So you're going to play that song live?" Christine asked them.

"Yeah," Dan answered. "It's gonna fucking kill."

Christine stretched herself and reclined her seat, where she shrunk and closed her eyes.

“Don't fall asleep yet,” Leo said loudly, even though he was next to her, “we're just getting started!”

Dan shushed the drummer and said, “she's not used to staying up all night.”

“Only if I get to work with Duran Duran.”

“I'm getting jealous!”

A bus horn was heard from the distance, making her open her eyes and the guys stand up and look through the front windows.

"I think that's Possessed," Leo said, squinting.

Christine gulped. “What's possessed?”

Leo snickered at her. “No, a band called Possessed. That's their bus”, he said as she stood up and joined the others, spotting a velvet-colored bus approaching from the opposite lane. The drummer turned to Lobotomy's driver. “Hey, Abe, could you honk back at them?”

The driver did as he was told. Right away the upcoming bus, which had the curtains up, honked louder.

“They're friends of ours,” Dan explained.

“Ah,” Christine said.

As the bus came closer, the guys went to kneel on the seats and put their faces close to the passenger's windows. When the vehicle was in front of them, they waved and smiled at the faces on the other side, who waved back.

"We should have toured with them," Mike said as they left the windows and Possessed's bus got lost in the horizon.

"Yeah," Richie said, "but Death Wish is cool either way”.

They all went back to their seats, with Richie yawning.

“You too, man?” Mike asked him.

“It's the cold,” Richie answered as he rolled up his jacket's hood and curled up in the seat behind Christine's.

She was falling asleep again, this time in Dan's arms.

 

**October, 1985 - Oregon City**

She had a weird dream. She was walking through a meadow with a black-hooded figure whose face she couldn’t see. Its arms, long and thin like a cadaver's, suddenly, held Christine's hand and she looked up: the hood was no more, but the head of a huge goat, with two black horns and red eyes. It started to prance about the meadow, making her prance too, and singing  _Friggin in the ringing, friggin in the ringin, friggin in the ringing, there was fuckin else to do…_

After what seemed to her several hours, she was being nudged on her shoulder.

“What?” she said, and opened her eyes with difficulty.

“We’re here!” Dan said excitedly before her. Even though it was still cold, he had already changed into jeans and sneakers. It was sunny outside. “We actually got to the city earlier, but I didn’t want to wake you. We’re in front of the venue now. Look!”

Christine stood up and looked at the building in front of her. It was a small, one-story bar by the name of Rock On in red letters.

“Looks nice," she said. "A bit small, though."

Dan grinned. "Come on, babe, we're still a small band!" There was a pause. "I'm gonna go help the roadies with the equipment. You wanna come over?"

Christine turned around and pouted. "I can't get out, I stink from sleeping with these clothes on all night."

In response, Dan smiled. "You never stink."

"I'm cold."

"Okay, I can tell you really don't wanna go," Dan said in jest and took her hands in his. 

"Yeah it's kind of boring, just carrying stuff around and talking to engineers."

"Oh. Will they take long?" She asked, grazing his fingers.

"Not much," he answered. Then he let her go, looking like a excited little kid. "Alright, I'm off. Come down if you need anything. Abe is having lunch near here."

"Okay."

When Dan got off the bus, Christine reached up for her pink bag. She unzipped the left pocket, took out a cassette tape and frowned at the light guitar sound coming from the back of the bus.

She turned around, saving the tape on her pants pocket, and saw a scarlet curtain behind the rows of seats and bathroom. She took long footsteps towards it and peeked through using two fingers: Richie and Mike sat at a large leather couch, talking in low voices behind a table at which they wrote. Mike had a guitar on his lap.

Christine took a step inside and took a photo.

"Dammit," Mike muttered, looked up for a second and continued writing. He had a pile of papers on the table.

"Sorry," Christine said, "I heard noises and---"

"It's alright," Richie said. "This is our little writing booth. You like it?"

"Yeah," Christine looked around. "It feels cozy."

"It is."

Christine took another picture, this time of Mike plucking his guitar.

"Did you sleep well, Christine?" Richie asked her.

"Yeah," Christine nodded. "How about you guys?"

"With Mike's snoring?" Richie said. "It was fine".

Mike kept on picking on his guitar's strings and writing.

"I'm hungry," Christine said. "When are we having lunch?"

Both guys snickered.

"We gotta wait for our roadies to finish," Richie told her. "And then check into a motel."

"Sometimes I forget to eat," Mike said, then looked at Richie. "Remember that day when all we had was Jack Daniel's?

"Best day ever."

"We're gonna eat, right?" Christine asked.

"Yeah, don't worry," Richie grinned. "We'll grab something."

"Thank God," Christine chuckled nervously and smiled.

"Hey, ladies never miss a meal under my watch."

"Classic Richie," Mike commented, his pen stopping.

"But seriously," Richie said and turned to Christine. "I have five sisters. If there's anything you need, I mean if Danny isn't around, I'm your guy."

"That's so sweet! Thanks."

"Could we please finish this song?" Mike said.

"Alright. I won't bother you anymore," Christine said. "I'm going back to my seat."

"You can stay with us," Richie said.

"It's okay. I brought some cassettes with me."

"Really? From who?"

"A bit of everything," Christine smiled. "Duran Duran, Dokken..."

"Ah, cool."

Christine drew out one last smile and left the booth, closing the curtains behind her.

She had almost doozed off to the music when she blinked quickly and sat straight. Through the window, she could tell Dan and the roadies were still inside the venue. In the back of the bus, there was only silence, so she assumed Richie and Mike were also out. Even though she had not eaten nor drank since she left LA, she had the urge to go to the bathroom, so she stood up. She walked through the corridor and found the door ajar, so she pushed it open.

"Aaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!"

"Dammit!"

She could only turn around and cover her eyes. Internally, she was still screaming.

"Leo!" she yelled. "Lock the door!"

"A bit too late for that."

Christine felt footsteps coming inside the bus.

"What's wrong?" Dan's voice was heard, then he came into view. "Are you o--Fuck, Leo!"

They all stood in the corridor now, Leo zipping his jeans.

"I have needs, man," he said and got down to pick up his pornographic magazine.

"Couldn't you tell I was still here?" Christine asked him in disbelief, finally uncovering her eyes.

"No, to be honest I was too focused..." his big, bulgy eyes looked down at the magazine. "You know..."

"Oh God..." she wailed.

Dan looked at his friend, mildly amused. "Just hold it for this tour, Leo. Leave Jimminy alone, alright?"

"Jimminy?" Christine said. "Is that his--?"

"Yeah," Dan said, watching his girlfriend's face go red. "Sorry, babe. Fuck, I'm a pig too."

"A cute pig," Christine observed.

Leo looked more relaxed now. "Still friends, right, man? It wasn't on purpose..."

"I know. Just... remember Christine's with us from now on." 

Leo nodded and made the gesture to leave. "I'm gonna call the others. They're done, right?"

"Yeah, call them." 

 

The band, Christine and the crew checked in in a simple motel just blocks away from the bar. Richie and Mike were in the same room, Leo had one for himself and Christine and Dan shared one.

Christine was getting out of the shower, a towel around her and her hair wet. She approached the bed, where Dan was watching tv shirtless, and opened her suitcase to find new, clean clothes.

“Where do you guys wash your clothes?” She asked as she put on underwear.

“We don’t”, Dan looked at her. “They stay dirty for the whole tour. We usually reuse them.”

“What? For months?”

“Well…” Dan chuckled. “Sometimes we find Laundromats and hang the clean clothes on the bus’ windows.”

Christine looked worried, in her sleeveless top and blue pants.

“I’ll find some laundry for you, babe,” Dan said.

She sat down and started putting her socks on. “I had a nightmare on the bus,” she said. “About that freaking Slayer goat.”

"What? What was it like?"

“The goat was singing Friggin in the Riggin and prancing with me.”

Dan let out the laugh that drove Christine crazy. His brown eyes twinkled, like everytime he looked at her. "You know those lyrics are just for fun, right?"

"Yeah, but still... Wait, did you write something like that for Lobotomy?"

He put his hand up. "Never. I promised my mom I wouldn't. I only write about nuclear war or beer and I can still be buried in a Jewish cemetery."

His laugh was interrupted by shrilling, fast music coming closer and closer. Then it stopped and was replaced by a horn. Dan got up and peeked through the window curtains.

"It's Death Wish! I gotta say hi."

He returned to the bed, where he put his tennis on. There was a whistle.

"Mouse?!" a male voice yelled. "Are you guys here?"

"Hang on, baby", Christine said, grabbing a leather jacket from the floor and throwing it at her boyfriend. "It's freezing."

Dan put the jacket on quickly. "You can come if you want."

"I will. I just need to comb first," she said, ruffling her hair.

"Okay."

He walked through the door and Christine stayed, watching through the window. There were five guys outside the motel, all wearing cut up denim jackets over leather ones and the same jeans and tennis as Lobotomy. Their car was badly parked in front of Mike and Richie's room.

"Gary, my man!" Dan greeted. They patted each other's backs. "How are you?"

"I'm great. Today's your first show?"

"Yeah."

"Ready to kill?"

"Ready."

"Where the hell's everybody?" Another guy asked. "Sleeping?"

"I think so," Dan answered him. "We were on the bus the whole day, Martie."

All the guys except for Dan started peeking through every window. Suddenly Christine was faced with an round face and small, brown eyes. She gave a little jump and backed away, comb in hand.

The young man laughed and stepped back as well.

"I didn't know you had company, Danny."

"It's my girlfriend. She's joined us for the tour."

"You brought a chick to the bus?" Martie said. "Are you nuts?"

Dan smiled. "A 'lil bit, yeah."

Christine remembered her hair was still wet, so she dried it with the drier in the bathroom. She put on a jacket and left the room.

They were all having beers by the van, instruments in the back of the vehicle.

"Hello," Christine said a bit shyly and waved.

They stared at her for a moment, which almost made her go back to the room. Then Gary spoke.

"Come on, girl, have a drink with us."

"Okay."

They made room for her inside the van, between Gary and Dan. A guy next to Gary gave her a beer can, which Christine examined with one eye opened.

"We're not infected," he said and laughed. Christine closed her eyes and drank a big slug of beer.

"It tastes like pee," she said, twisting her mouth.

The guys cackled. "I told you so, you cheap fuck," Gary told a guy in the right corner.

"Mike has good beer in his room," Dan said.

They smirked at each other and got off the van, leaving Christine disoriented. But when she saw that the others were heading for Mike's room as well, she followed.

Dan opened the door with a matchstick. They entered the room and she started coughing.

"How much can they smoke?" Dan commented and opened the window next to him, trying to clean the air with one hand.

"Aw, look at the pair of fags," the guy who had given Christine the beer said.

She looked at the bed and saw Richie and Mike sleeping with their heads together. She smiled with tenderness.

"Alright, let's look for the booze," Dan said and started walking around the room, eyes on the drawers and counters. His friends helped him by looking in the bathroom.

"Goddammit..." Dan muttered. He came closer to the bed. "Where's the booze, Mouse?"

"Suck my… dick…"

Dan laid on his stomach on the floor and started groping under the bed with his hand. He crawled closer and slid half his body under it.

"Found it," he said, his voice hollow.

"Awesome," Martie said.

But Mike tugged Dan by the jeans, on his waist line. The guitarist was fully awake now, although his eyes seemed disoriented. "Not so fast, Crispy," he said as he pulled up. The room filled with laughter.

"Ow…" Dan complained. "I'm never having children."

"Leave my booze alone," Mike tugged harder.

"No."

Mike let him go and he fell on the floor like a sack of potatoes. Dan crawled from under the bed, red in the face and with a bottle of another brand of beer in one hand. He stood up and gave it a sip before handing it over to Gary.

"It's good," Dan said.

"Yeah," Gary said and burped. "Let your girlfriend taste it."

"What about the owner of the booze?" Mike said.

"Ladies first, Mouse. Where are your fucking manners?"

"Same place my fucking language is," Mike smile was a twisted one.

Gary gave the bottle to Christine, who took a sip. "It's good," she concluded.

"Awesome," Gary said. "What's your name?"

"Christine."

"Christine. Pretty name."

"Thanks."

She gave the bottle to Mike, who drank copiously before nudging Richie on the shoulder.

"Richie, wake up."

The bassist groaned, rubbed his eyes and finally woke up. He sat up and looked around, his thick eyelashes still heavy.

"Hi, guys…" he leaned on his elbows. "Are we sharing beer?"

"Yeah. And it's not the piss Martie brought."

"I'm hungry, though, I don't know."

"There's a restaurant near here," Franco said.

 

 

Moments later they're walking through the quiet streets of Oregon City, with the big sun doing nothing to appease the cold. Every once in a while, people would glance at the odd ensemble of rockers and a Madonna fan with a camera hanging around her neck.

They found an old-looking restaurant and ordered pizzas and ice-cream for everyone, joined by sodas. One dinning booth fitted them all.

"Are you staying for the whole tour?" Martie asked.

Christine took a lick of her vanilla ice-cream. "Only five months."

"Whipped…" Franco chuckled at Dan.

"Shut up," Dan said.

"Seriously though," Martie said, "things get wild on tour. That's no place for a lady."

Christine smiled mischievously. "I don't know, I went to a Lobotomy show."

"What?"

"Seriously?"

Franco smirked, followed by the others, who seemed suddenly very interested in what she had to say.

"You survived?"

"With only a scratch," Christine touched the place on her face where her bruise used to be. "Here."

"Only because some asshole threw a bottle at me," Dan said. "And then everyone else went crazy."

"Who was it? A glam fag?" Gary chuckled.

"No, just some assmuncher that called us posers."

"Well, Danny, honey, you need to stop actually singing so you won't get called a poser," Martie said.

Dan drank some of his soda and said: "At least I can sing. Check this out:  _Lord Almighty, I feel my temperature rising_..."

"Not Elvis again!" Gary complained. But Christine was enthusiastic and asked her boyfriend to keep singing.

" _Higher, higher, it's burning through to my soul_..." Dan snapped his fingers in rhythm. "Girl, girl, girl, you gonna set me on fire..."

"Oh my God, that's amazing," his girlfriend said with a hand over her mouth.

"Love _is_ blind..." Martie commented.

Christine stuck her tongue out at him.

After a few minutes of chatting, Franco ordered another pizza for himself. When the waitress brought it to the table, Christine watched his plump hands take a slice of it.

"She's judging you," an unknow musician said to Franco. "She's saying, stop eating so much, fatty."

The guys had a laugh while Franco shrugged.

"How's your girlfriend, Martie?" Dan asked.

"She's alright, she's staying at my ma's until I come back."

"Can I take a picture of you guys?" Christine interrupted, looking at Gary, Franco and Martie, in front of her.

"Sure, why not," Franco said.

They put their arms around each other and stuck out their tongues. She clicked.

"Are you a pro?" Gary said, eating again.

"Yeah, I work at a magazine."

She took another picture of the three.

"No kidding..." Gary said. "So you were shooting a Danny nude calendar and that's how you two met?"

They all laughed except Danny, whose cheeks showed embarrassment.

"No, I work at a rock magazine. Danny and I met at the band's first photoshoot."

"Ah", Gary said. "Which magazine?"

"Loud and Proud."

"Cool. That's a good one."

"Yeah, except it also has Bon Jovi and shit like that," Franco added.

"Okay, what exactly is wrong with Bon Jovi?" Christine said and took a big slice of pizza in her mouth.

"They dress like girls, that's what's wrong."

“And sound like girls.”

Christine shrugged.

"You like thrash, though, right?" Martie asked.

"Yeah. But not all the bands."

"Huh… which ones you don't like?"

"Slayer. They scare me."

All four of them chuckled.

"Yeah, chicks hate Slayer," Martie said. "Put on some Air Supply and they melt, though. Who can get them?"

"I love Air Supply," Christine said, thinking her voice couldn't have sounded more girly.

"See?" Martie said.

"What's your favorite rock band?" Franco asked her. She tried to ignore his extremely greasy fingers.

"I don't know, Dokken or Cheap Trick."

"Nice."

Christine watched Gary dig his ice-cream cone into the pizza, removed the cone and spread the cream with a knife, like butter. She made a face of discomfort but preferred not to say something about it. Instead, she asked about Leo.

"I think he's still asleep, I dunno," Dan answered.

"He'll come around," Martie expanded on his friend's explanation. "He always does in the end."

They each paid for their food and left the place, still conversing. Outside it was cooler than minutes before, and Dan and Christine entwined their arms together as they walked back towards the motel.

 

 

It was Christine's turn in the queue, but before she could show her press pass, the bouncer's big hand stopped her. 

"No photos here, sorry."

"Why?"

"Bands don't like it."

"But I'm a photographer--"

"Sorry, miss. I could let you in, but in there, people are not friendly with cameras."

Christine stomped her feet in frustration and stepped out of the queue, getting on her toes to catch a glimpse of Dan. But she couldn't, so she decided to wait in the bus, parked at the other side of the street.

The driver was waiting for her outside the bus with two cups of coffee in each gloves-covered hand. He smiled kindkly at the girl.

"It'll keep you warm."

"Thanks, Abe."

He opened the doors and Christine climbed onto the bus.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't originally in part 3; I added it like a week ago. I personally find it a bit lame compared to the others, but I hope you guys like it :)

**October 1985 – Vermont**  
  
Lobotomy was heading from Orange to Essex, followed by Death Wish on a van. They were reaching the 7th mile when a hitchhiker in the middle of the highway made Abe, Lobotomy's driver, stop dead on his tracks.   
  
"Abe!" Richie, who sat next to him, yelled. "It's a hobo, don't stop the bus!"   
  
"Maybe he needs something."   
  
In that moment Christine and the others woke up.   
  
"What's happening?" Dan asked, raising his head from Christine's shoulder.   
  
"The bus stopped, don't you see?" Mike mocked him.   
  
"Ha-ha, funny guy."   
  
The driver sat up and walked towards the exit.   
  
"I'll leave the door locked," he said to all of them and got off the bus.   
  
Perplexed, the band and Christine headed for the windows on the right side and watched how Abe talked to a man with ragged shorts and greasy hair and beard.   
  
"I've watched the Texas Massacre, I see where this is going," Mike commented.   
  
"But the door is locked," Christine argued.   
  
Richie, now among them, butted in: "Abe shouldn't have stopped."   
  
"Does that hobo think we have money?" Leo asked as he stared at the man, fascinated. They couldn't hear the conversation, but Abe looked like he was trying to get rid of him as the other begged for something.   
  
"At least three grand on my bass, Leo," Richie said.   
  
"Has this ever happened before?" Christine asked.   
  
"First time," Richie replied. "Just your luck, Christine".   
  
"I'm gonna see what's up," Mike said and pushed up the window in front of him. Christine took a step back, dragging Dan with her; while the other band members got closer to Mike. "What do you want... sir?" He asked casually.   
  
"Just a drive to Essex," the man answered as he looked at them all. Some of his teeth were missing. "You guys seem like good people."   
  
"We don't let anyone in our bus," Mike stated.  
  
"I'll play the harmonica for you the whole way", the man continued as if he hadn't heard the guitarist. "It'll be fun," he said with a strange smirk. "What do you say?"   
  
"No, sorry," Mike insisted.   
  
Abe, now completely frightened, stared from the man to the people on the bus.   
  
"C'mon!" the homeless man said, louder.   
  
Shaking, Christine got closer to his boyfriend and squeezed his arm.  
  
"Close the window, Mouse," Dan muttered.   
  
"That's rude," the homeless man said, and Christine felt cold running down her back. "If you're not gonna drive me, at least give me the money to go to Essex. It's the least you can do, right?"   
  
"Yeah that's not happening," Mike sentenced. "We won't hurt you and you won't hurt us, alright buddy? Abe--"   
  
The gunshot made everyone yelp and duck; and by the sound of it, it had hit one of the windows, cracking it. The roadies were awake and confused now.  
  
“Duck! Duck!” Leo whispered at them. They got on their knees and put their hands behind their heads.  
  
Christine was so scared she forgot how to scream. She just held onto her boyfriend and shut her eyes, shaking.   
  
"We don't have any money!" Richie yelled from the corridor, hands on his head.   
  
"A hundred bucks or your driver dies!" the homeless man shouted back.   
  
"Oh God," Christine whimpered, still clinging to Dan.   
  
There was a second shot, to which everyone panicked even more.   
  
"It's me, Gary!!!" Gary shouted from the outside. And then, quieter, "Don't move, you piece of shit."   
  
Lobotomy and Christine got up and just as they headed for the door, someone opened it.   
  
"Abe!" Richie said. "Jesus Christ, are you okay?"   
  
The driver was paler than usual. "I've been better," he said, still trying to smile.  
  
"You're welcome," Gary pointed out. Then he opened up his arms, resembling the Pope but with a gun in each hand, and said, louder: "Once again, the hero saves the day."   
  
"Put those out," Mike warned, giving the guns an untrustworthy look.   
  
The homeless man had his hands in the air, one of them bleeding, but not too heavily. Gary pointed at the him with both guns.   
  
"I didn't know you brought your gun on tour," Dan said to him, trembling from the cold like everyone else.   
  
"It's my baby, I bring her anywhere."   
  
"Stupid redneck..." Mike muttered and laughed.   
  
"Hey, I'm a proud son of Texas!" Gary said.   
  
"You don't sound like a Texan," Christine told him.   
  
"Yeah, I lost my accent in the Bay. Got too much shit for it."   
  
In the following moment of silence, everyone's eyes darted towards Death Wish’s white van, behind them, where the driver slept peacefully on his seat, seemingly unaware of the danger.   
  
"What do we do with this one?" Gary said, pointing at the homeless man again.   
  
"We're not calling the cops," Leo said.   
  
"Oh, so you're taking him in your bus?" Gary mocked.   
  
"I don't want a cop raiding my stuff!"   
  
"Okay, no need to yell... How about this, I call the cops and we leave before they arrive."  
  
"They'll ask questions," Richie said.   
  
"I think we're above robbers in the food chain, Richie," Gary said.   
  
"Fine," Richie said and yawned. Then he laughed. "How are we going to find a phone booth, though?"   
  
"There's one in the next gas station," Gary said. "We'll have to walk for like fifteen minutes with this son of a bitch," he pointed at the robber again.   
  
"Sounds complicated," Richie pointed out. "Just put him in your bus and drop him at the station. Make the call and get the hell out. Our bus will be right behind you."   
  
"Great," Gary agreed.   
  
"Let's move it," Mike added and they all returned to their buses.   
  
As they got back inside the bus, Dan hugged his girlfriend from behind and kissed her on the neck.   
  
"You wouldn't let go of me back there, would you?" He said.  
  
Christine blushed as she turned around, still embraced by him.   
  
"Stop smiling like that..." she said and he chuckled. "And I was really scared!"   
  
"Yeah, me too. I'm a chicken..." Dan took her by the hand, biting his lip. "Damn, you're freezing."   
  
She laughed. "You too, stupid."   
  
He enlarged his brown eyes in fake shock. "What did you just call me?"   
  
"Go to sleep already!" Mike complained. The bus moved slowly and he had a pillow on his face.   
  
"Don't worry, Mouse," Dan said, "You can sleep with your imaginary girlfriend."  
  
Mike threw the pillow at Dan, shutting up his laugh.   
  
"Alright, we'll sit down," Dan conceded before giving the pillow back to Mike.   
  


  
  
A foul smell woke Christine up. As the voices of Dan and Leo argued somewhere in the back, she rolled on her seat and towards the corridor: it was wet with a brown liquid.   
  
She flinched on her seat and pulled her knees up. Behind her, Richie was waking up while Leo and Dan kept arguing.   
  
"Leo!" Richie shouted, hands on face. "I  _told_ you to hold it for a couple of hours."   
  
" _You_ try to hold diarrhea!" Leo said. He had a roll of toilet paper in his hands.   
  
"But we didn't eat anything last night."   
  
"I had a burrito at the bar. All sauces, man! You should have tried."   
  
"Jesus Christ, someone should staple your goddamn stomach, Leo," Richie said.   
  
Christine was laughing, even with the smell.   
  
"Are you okay, babe?" Dan asked her from the other end of the bus.   
  
"Yeah, I just need some fresh air," she replied.   
  
Dan was about to say something when Christine opened his seat window and put her face out to breathe the cold air. She gave such a satisfied sigh the guys laughed.   
  
"Danny, would you pass me my cotton and alcohol?" she asked her boyfriend. "They're in my handbag above this."  
  
"Sure," Dan said and moved quickly towards her. He handed her the items and lingered.   
  
"What?" she said as she poured alcohol into a ball of cotton.   
  
"Sorry about this," Dan said. "The diarrhea, the hobo... Worst tour ever, am I right?"   
  
Christine chuckled. "Well, if you had told me it was going to be like this I wouldn't have come."  
  
"You’d still have come,” he smiled. “For me.”  
  
“You know me,” she smiled back.  
  
Dan gave her a quick kiss on the lips and returned to the scatological scene.   
  
"Alright, guys, let's clean this up!"   
  
Christine put the cotton below her nose and her head out the window. Richie, in the corridor, swiped the liquid excrement with a broom while Leo used a pail to clean up the toilet. 

 


End file.
